


He Laughs Like You

by obsidian_GSD



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Chronic Pain, Crowley Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Heavy Angst, Human AU, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Non-Consensual Touching, Past Rape/Non-con, Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Depression, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tags Subject to Change, The fact that there's a tag for that, They/Them Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Title from a Hozier Song, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, good omens human au, warnings subject to change, will update as story is updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-01-24 16:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 53,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidian_GSD/pseuds/obsidian_GSD
Summary: Zira's life never changes, never deviates from its pattern.Until he ends up in a bar he has never been to one day. He has no idea how he's ended up here, but the man behind the counter keeps him coming back. Can Anthony help change his mundane lifestyle? Or has he fallen into a hole he won't be able to pull himself out of?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 242
Kudos: 248
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Chapter 1

Zira doesn’t find himself in bars very often, but when he does, it’s usually a nicer one than the one he has currently found himself in. Not that the one he has wound up in is seedy or dirty, it just isn’t his usual place to haunt. Of course, when he does go to bars, it tends to be for work related things with people from work. The people from work would have never dared to set foot in this place, which brings a small spark of light to Zira; there’s no chance of running into anyone he knows, and that makes everything just that much more better for him.

Nursing a pint of beer that’s still mostly full, Zira’s head hangs, hand running through his hair as flashes from his day run through his mind. Sighing, Zira pulls himself up and takes a sip of his lukewarm beer and grimaces. It isn’t his normal drink of choice, but he’s going to make it work, especially if it manages to chase off the memories that are threatening to over take him. He’s never really enjoyed his job, but after today, he knows he will never truly belong.

Conversations hum around him, music floats through the air, glasses clink and ice rattles in shakers, but Zira finds himself blocking it all out. He lets it fade into the background, buzzing around him as he takes another tentative sip. He knows he pulls another face when the acrid tastes hits his mouth.

“I know it isn’t the best beer ever, but it can’t be that bad,” a voice says, coming from in front of him.

Zira manages to lift his head, lets his eyes focus on the person in front of him. The bartender tilts his head at Zira as he uses a rag to wipe down a glass. Zira’s eyes flash over the face in front of him, not really taking it in, but still finding a way to appreciate the beauty he can see there. “Not my usual choice of drink,” Zira manages to reply, his words quiet and he finds himself wondering if he’s even loud enough to be heard in the first place.

The bartender continues to look at him and Zira almost fears he is going to have to repeat himself, but finds himself watching as the man walks away, setting the glass down as he goes. Zira sighs, his eyes closing._ Chased off someone else... you’re getting good at that, idiot._

He’s just about ready to give up on his beer - and his non existent social life - when the pint glass is pulled across the bar and out of his reach. Picking his head up, his mouth is already half open with a question twitching on his tongue when a new glass is set in front of him. Zira looks up at the bartender, frozen as his brain tries to catch up.

“You look like you could use a pick me up. That one is on the house; just don’t going telling the boss. I’m already on her bad side more often than not.” A quick smile is flashed his way, more than one emotion flowing through it before Zira watches the man walk away again, heading off to serve someone else further down the top.

When his brain starts working properly again, Zira looks down to see the glass is filled with a couple of fingers of amber liquid. By the color and the smell rising up to him, Zira can tell the scotch isn’t cheap and a wave of guilt rises up, reading to wash over him. _Pathetic looking enough people are almost begging you to get drunk so you’ll liven up_, that voice says in his ear, and Zira starts to entertain the idea to shove the glass back across the bar.

Instead, Zira glances up one more time to make sure the bartender has indeed sauntered away (because that’s the only way to describe what his hips are doing) before he allows his fingers to wrap around the glass. He hesitates, but only for the smallest fraction of a second, before raising the glass to his lips and taking a sip. This time when he grimaces, it’s due to the burning feeling that’s currently making its way down his throat. Zira moves the glass back down, swirling the liquid around in it, watching the light bounce off of it.

Not that there’s a ton of light in here, which Zira honestly doesn’t mind as much as he thinks he should. He’s spent too many days surrounded by the harsh, almost eye aching white light of the fluorescent lighting at his job. If he lets his mind wander too far while there, he swears he can hear the faint buzzing sound that permeates everywhere in that sterile building. He’s not really sure when it started bothering him; he can’t remember it being a problem when he first started, but he can’t seem to escape it now he’s noticed it. He’s pretty sure it’s made an appearance in at least one dream lately.

The low lighting in the bar is the perfect accent to the laid back environment that’s been created within the brick walls. Dark furniture paired with the dark walls gives the place a warm feeling, with amber lighting adding to the effect. A mirrored section behind the bar keeps it from being too dark though as it bounces light around and Zira can’t help the warm feeling spreading through him the longer he stays in his seat.

Of course, that could also be due to the scotch he’s managed to take another sip of. He can’t help staring into the glass whenever it isn’t up to his lips, his head bowed and his shoulders hunched up around his neck. He can’t help but think he looks like a character from a movie or TV show, one that’s become part of the bar, like he belongs there. _Not like you belong anywhere else, might as well belong here._

Zira shakes his head, fingers carding through white curls before he takes another sip. It takes longer than it should for him to notice that someone is standing in front of him again. “Enjoying that better?” the voice asks and Zira has to make his sluggish mind shift gears so he can actually process what’s being said to him.

He somehow finds the energy to pull his head up again and silently registers a cocky smile being aimed in his direction. He doesn’t bother looking past it though. “Yeah, thanks mate..” he whispers and wonders if his voice is even loud enough to be heard. Not that anyone would ever really pay attention to what he has to say anyways.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” the man in front of him says before he grabs a new pint glass. Zira watches his hands as he fills it from one of the taps in between them both, golden liquid filling the pint. Keeping his eyes on the bubbles that are forming, Zira can feel eyes boring into him, can feel the worry - _he isn’t worrying about you, why would a stranger worry about you, you’re just another person, another check to cash out at the end of the night -_ but he can’t bring himself to pull his eyes back up again.

Part of him wonders if the man wanted to say more, wanted to reach out or invite him back another night. Wonders if he could have been spared more pain if he had just allowed himself to look up into those eyes, but he’ll never know, never have an answer to any of those questions. The man walks off again when Zira keeps his eyes trained anywhere and nowhere, not really taking in anything he’s found himself looking at, and Zira leaves soon after he’s drained the last of the scotch left in his glass. He isn’t anywhere near drunk, but he doesn’t really mind. Didn’t wander in here with that outcome on his mind anyways.

Remembering to leave some money behind, enough to include a gracious tip even though he doesn’t really have to, Zira walk out into the chilly night, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He doesn’t even really know where he is, outside of being somewhere in SoHo, but he knows if he just starts walking, he’ll find his way eventually.

It’s not until well after Zira has gotten home and finds himself looking at his own reflection on the bathroom mirror that he realizes he has no idea what the bartender looked like.

When Monday rolls around again, as it always does eventually, Zira manages to drag himself back to work. He’s dreading it, more than he even really realizes, but he still makes himself go, bracing himself for another miserable week stuck under blinding lights.

As soon as he walks into the overly sterile building, he plasters the fake, annoyingly happy smile that keeps (almost) everyone off of his back. He can’t help but question why he still does this, why he’s still torturing himself after all of these years, but it doesn’t take much to remember. When he walks out of the sliding doors for the lat time of the week on Friday, he isn’t too terribly surprised when he finds himself outside of a brick building once again.

Sighing, Zira pushes on the wooden door, the weight of the week crushing his shoulders as he slides onto the same seat as last time. When he orders a drink, he notices he’s talking to a woman this time, one with long, dark hair and a no nonsense look on her face. Her voice softens, minutely, when Zira doesn’t ask more of her than another pint of beer he doesn’t really plan on drinking. He just wants something to hold in his hands and make him feel as if he belongs somewhere.

He isn’t really sure how long he’s been sitting when a glass of scotch is slid across the bar top in his direction. Zira blinks slowly at it as he comes back from wherever he was. “You look like you need something stronger than this piss,” a gentle voice tells him before the still full pint is pulled away from him.

Zira looks up just in time to catch the same cocky smile as last time, but he forces himself to notice Something Else this time as well. Mirrored lenses reflect his own face back at him and it isn’t until the man walks away that Zira’s brain supplies the word _sunglasses_ to him.

“Indoors..?” Zira questions out loud. The bar is lit by the same soft lighting as last time and he can’t quiet understand why a person would need to shield their eyes in here. Hi office building, sure, but here? Shaking his head, Zira reaches for the scotch and takes a sip as he pushes the thought away.

He still doesn’t really know what the man looks like, but it’s all he can do to focus on the glass in his hand. His brain keeps threatening to float away on him again, taking the last of his sanity with him, and Zira has to hang on tightly to it even as he feels it slipping away. At some point, the woman bartender comes back into focus again and Zira can feel her glare as she stares at the glass in his hand.

_Going to get this guy fired, make him lose his job, all because you’re absolutely pathet-_

“Must be really bad if he’s sneaking that to you behind my back,” she says sharply, startling Zira out of his thoughts. “He only risks getting fired for people who are really lost, so you must be up there if he’s done it two weeks in a row now.”

Zira pulls his head up higher, eyes trailing away from the amber liquid to look in her deep brown eye. Whatever look is on his face must be enough to convince her that the other bartender is right about him. Her face softens, just enough for Zira to notice it, before she gives a hard sigh. “Look, just don’t.... go making a habit of it, thinking you’re going to get free expensive ass scotch every time you show up here. Word might get out and that would be bad for business.”

Her words are harsh, but Zira can hear the concern behind her words that lets him know she’s worried about him. She’s also trying to make money, and having someone like Zira showing up getting free stuff, even if it is courtesy of one of her employees isn’t helping that cause. This thought swirls around in his head a couple of times before he notices she is still looking at him, waiting for a confirmation or some sort of sign he understands. Blushing fiercely, Zira nods at her, letting her know he does indeed get it, before she walks away out of sight again with a small shake of her head.

If there happens to be a stern shout from the back room moments later, Zira pays no mind to it. Hips saunter into view again moments later as he takes a sip of the fiery drink, letting himself feel the burn in his throat as much as possible. He closes his eyes, wanting to sink into the glass and lose himself completely, but he knows that wouldn’t be good for anyone if he allows himself to listen to that desire. Before he’s even finished the glass, Zira pulls himself to his feet, once again leaving too much money on the bar as he starts to turn away and leave the place again. He tries to tell himself he won’t be back, argues that there isn’t any good to him coming here, knows there isn’t any good to him going anywhere really, but a voice calling to him makes him stop before he’s reached the end of the bar.

“See you again next Friday?”

Zira stops in his tracks, his hand fidgeting in front of him. He has to take a deep breath, carefully constructing that smile he knows lets him get away with entirely too much before he turns to the source of the voice. A smile greets him, a small one, full of too many things that Zira doesn’t know how to decipher from a man he’s only met twice now, and even then one he has yet to have a real conversation with. Zira finds himself dropping his mask just a little, just enough to allow a sliver of his own emotions to peek through before he pushes it back into place.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Next Friday...”

Unsure of what else to say, if there really is anything else to say, Zira only stares at the red head - _he has red hair, shiny, golden, kissed by actual fire, red hair..._ \- until the silence stretches to an almost uncomfortable level. As Zira turns to leave, a voice calls out to the other man, and they both turn away from each other at the same time, each going back to their separate lives in an instant. When the cold air hits Zira once he steps outside, he has to shake himself, jogging his brain as he starts the long walk home again.

Mirrored lenses and hair made of fire dance in front of his eyes the whole walk home and if Zira thought about it hard enough, he might have noticed a small part of himself was now almost looking forward to next Friday.

Zira doesn’t go back to the bar the following Friday. Instead, he’s forced to go to yet another work even that he dreads from the moment he opens the email about it. Even if he tries not to go, his coworkers would find a way to drag him to it anyways. At the end of the day on Friday, just as Zira finishes packing up his bag, a face shows up in his doorway and Zira only just manages to plaster a smile on his face.

“Ready to go? It’s going to be a fun time tonight,” a loud booming voice announces.

Zira has to resist the urge to flinch away from that voice. “Sounds like it, the way everyone has been talking about it,” Zira manages to say while keeping his voice as level as possible.

Gabriel flashes that too wide smile in his directions, a weird expression plastered on his face. They look at each other for a moment or two too long as the silence stretches between them. Zira blinks hard before mentally shaking himself as he grabs his bag and heads towards the door.

A hand claps to his shoulder as Gabriel continues to block the only exit, hovering over Zira. “So excited you’re heading out with us tonight! I know everyone else is excited as well.”

Zira looks up at him with his fake smile safely in place. “Shall we head out then?” Zira asks, needing to get out of his office, needing to get away from this trapped feeling.

Gabriel finally moves out of the doorway, just enough to allow Zira through, but doesn’t let him get far before wrapping hi arm around his shoulder. He starts steering Zira as if he thinks the smaller man is going to try and run off. “You can ride with me and Michael, though Lord knows it probably wouldn’t hurt you to walk,” Gabriel announces as he looks towards Zira’s stomach. Zira ignores the look and the comment even as his heart starts to sink. It’s going to be a long night.

One supremely awkward car ride later and Zira finds himself outside of a super modern building, one that he would never have looked at twice. Their group is seated quickly, thanks to a knowing smile between Gabriel and the head waiter and Zira finds himself seated next to Gabriel, as always. _Has to keep an eye on you, can’t have you overdoing it, can’t have you over indulging._

“Alright everyone! Let’s have a fun time tonight!” Gabriel declares as a waiter arrives with a tray of drinks for everyone.

Zira tries his best to join in, he really does, while holding a glass of the weirdest drink he’s had to date. Gabriel was always taking them to these modern bars that served up drinks that would make any other sane person in the world sneer their lips. Gabriel finds it fun though, so of course they all have to find it fun.

When the loud man notices Zira isn’t joining in as much as he thinks he should be, when Zira has stayed quiet for several moments too many, the conversation takes an abrupt change and Zira finds himself wishing for a real drink. “So, Zira!”

Everyone sitting at their table turns their attention to the white haired man who’s currently wishing he knew how to disappear. He only sets his drink down and forces that painfully untrue smile on his face again as he turns to Gabriel, already aware of what’s coming. _If you were just normal, if only you weren’t broken, if only-_

“Zira, when are you going to finally settle down? Life can’t be fun, being as alone as you are!” Gabriel exclaims and Zira can almost taste the fake concern hiding behind his words.

“Oh come now, Gabriel,” Michael cuts in before Zira has a chance to even open his mouth. “Can’t be that bad, being alone. He seems to be managing fairly well.”

“Might help him not look so shabby though, having someone around to help him with his style choices,” another work associate chimes in and Zira feels his smile starting to slip with every comment thrown his way.

“Well, I...” he starts, not really knowing how to explain anything, not that he really wants to.

Once again though, before he even really has time to try and stick up for himself, Gabriel’s voice rises over his own. “We should help set you up! I’m sure there’s someone in one of the lower departments that wouldn’t mind going to dinner with you.” Heads nod around the table as everyone finds Gabriel’s idea agreeable and Zira knows they are all thinking of various people instantly.

“It’s not like Zira wouldn’t know of any good places to take someone to eat at,” someone says from even further down the table. Zira turns to the associate and tries to place him; he knows he’s seen those strange sideburns somewhere, but he can’t place a name to the man.

Gabriel laughs long and loud at this and Zira wants to melt away. “I don’t think you’re wrong! Our coworker here seems to enjoy food the same way someone enjoys hiking!”

Laughs ring out along the table once again and Zira can feel his smile slipping even more as a hand is clapped to his back, pounding hard. Conversation of Zira’s lack of love life continues well into the night as names start to be thrown out and Zira wonders when he might be able to finally slip away.

It’s not until hours later that the group finally starts to go their separate ways, well after the place closes to the general public. Zira somehow manages to end up in a car with Gabriel and Michael once again, his soft protests going unnoticed as the two pull him into the vehicle. They start on him instantly, giving him a list of names that Zira only glances at. Some part of his brain registers the one or two names on it he knows belongs to male employees of their office, but he can’t bring himself to think about it too much.

When he finally gets home, Zira heaves a sigh, crushing back everything that threatens spill out as he does. He reminds himself that he just has to make it through another week, has to make it to next Friday once again, and then he can go to his new escape. Can catch glimpses of red hair again, can lose himself to whatever is hiding behind those sunglasses.

Zira allows himself to hope for the first time in a long time, even if it’s only a small spark for a man who’s name he doesn’t even know. One he hasn’t even had a real conversation with, but he can’t stop the spark that’s growing, and makes it a plan to learn more about this man, no matter how bad his week is...

When Friday makes itself known again, Zira hardly even remembers getting to the bar. He can vaguely remember leaving work, dodging questions over whether or not he had called anyone on the list yet (he hasn’t). Can almost picture walking out of the door, doing his best to escape the sterile environment. That was when Gabriel had swam into view and Zira finds everything after to be a blur.

_It’s not normal to black out like this. Sure there isn’t something broken in that brain of yours?_ Zira shrugs the door open, once again stepping into the warm space he’s coming to love more than he probably should. He walks up to his seat (when did it become his...?) and slide into it quickly, more aware than he’s even been in this pace of what’s going on around him.

Looking around, Zira notices for the first time that he isn’t the only lost looking one taking up space in this bar. Everything from older men to young adults who have to be in college are sitting in various places, keeping to themselves, and their glasses. There only seems to be a handful of people socializing, sitting with someone else and having an honest to goodness conversation. This serves to help Zira feel a little less alone, a little more like he belongs as he stops looking around and turns his gaze back to the bar top. He almost notices that his shoulders feel less heavy, is only for the time being, as he makes real eye contact with the woman from before when he orders his beer.

“If I see you with a glass of scotch, I swear I’m charging you for the whole bottle. Don’t care if you do over pay when you leave,” she threatens, but Zira can almost see the hint of a smile hiding in her features as she hands the drink over.

“Thank you,” Zira says, voice louder, stronger than normal.

She gives him a small nod before wandering off, taking care of something else, somewhere else. Zira watches her go until she disappears from sight, before turning his gaze to his beer. It’s a darker one than normal and he he chances a sip and he can actually stomach it without a grimace for once. Going to the other bar last week was a nice reminder for him and Zira finds himself appreciating the taste of real alcohol more than he has in a long time.

It’s quite sometime and almost more of his beer before red hair swims into view and this time, Zira’s heart stops. He isn’t sure it’s because he’s actually noticing the beauty of the man’s face for the first time, or if it’s because he’s also noticing purple and blue bruises spreading across that beautiful face. He’s still trying to wrap his hand around both of those options when the bartender comes to stand in front of him, same sunglasses still in place.

“Missed you lassst week,” the man says as he reaches for Zira’s pint glass. “Name’s Anthony by the way, just in cassse you were curious.”


	2. Chapter 2

As Zira tries desperately to piece together what’s going on in front of him, the woman bartender comes running from the back room and grabs hold of the man’s (Anthony) arm. Zira can only watch as he’s dragged back to the backroom once more. Within moments, angry shouts can be heard from the other side of the door, paired with small patches of silence.

Zira doesn’t even notice his hands are shaking until the pair come back into view again, Anthony standing directly in front of Zira. “Hey, it’s ok, really,” the man whispers and Zira can see he’s hesitating. Soft, pale hands are reaching for him, stopping only inches away from his own. The woman starts in on the red head again as the two men look at each other (well, as best as they can with the sunglasses blocking true eye contact). Zira does his best to bring the world back into focus, but there’s a strange buzzing noise in his ears that’s making it difficult for him and he feels like he can’t breathe.

“You have to ssslow down,” the man tells him, snapping some of Zira’s focus back to the world in front of him. He realizes his chest is heaving and he can’t make it stop, still feels like he can’t breathe. “Ok, here, breathe with me ok? Slow and sssteady, in and out.”

A hand lock on one of Zira’s own, holding it ever so carefully and giving him plenty of opportunity to pull away if he decides to. Zira closes his eyes, willing his heart to slow, making himself hear past the buzzing to the sound of the other breathing. When he opens his eyes again, he finds himself looking into concern and worry filled eyes, sunglasses pushed up to the top of the man’s head. Zira’s breath catches again, for a moment, as his brain tries to process the golden color staring back at him.

“There we go,” Anthony whispers. “Better?”

A soft smile is playing on the man’s face (_Don’t look at the bruises, look past them_) and Zira sighs deeply. “Better, I think,” he mumbles back.

“Good, now that’s passed,” the woman interrupts, making both of them jump slightly. The soft hand pulls away from Zira’s and glasses are resettled all before Zira can even process her glaring at the red head. “Go home, Crowley, I told you not to come in today and I meant it. You need to take it easy for a couple of days and take care of you.”

Zira can hear the concern hiding underneath the stern words and he feels a little better knowing she isn’t truly mad at the man. Anthony brushes her words away, hand waving between the pair. “I told you, I’m fine. Face is going to look like this whether I’m here or at home. Told you, I wasn’t planning on ssstaying long anyways. Just needed to come and check on something.”

The pair start to walk to the backroom again and Zira ha to resist the urge to follow them, needing to know what happened or how he can help. His hand are shaking again, he can feel it, and he starts to wring them together, beer forgotten about completely. He can’t get the sight of those bruises out of his head, can’t make the images go away, and he can feel himself slipping away again.

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah?” a voice from behind him asks and Zira jumps so hard he almost knocks the remainder of his beer over. “Sorry, didn’t mean to ssstartle you.”

Breathing hard again, Zira closes his eyes once more, as his mind supplies it was Anthony’s voice talking to him. When he opens them again, his pint has been moved and there’s a face with a soft smile waiting at a respectable distance for him. “My apologies,” Zira hears himself mumble distantly.

Anthony moves slowly and deliberately in front of him, making it clear to Zira what he’s planning on doing with plenty of time for Zira to react. The time, when a hand lands on his arm Zira is ready for it and manages to not flinch. “Let’s get you outssside, ok?” Anthony asks carefully.

Zira must nod because the next thing he knows is he’s being led outside, halfheartedly protesting about not paying yet. “Pleassse don’t worry about it,” Anthony tells him as they finally make it outside. “Anathema - my boss, technically - wouldn’t hear of it after what just happened. She’s ssstern, but not heartless.”

They both move to the side of the building and Zira finds himself leaning against the brick wall. He takes a few deep gulp of fresh air, letting it cam him slowly. When he feels as if he’s back under control, he opens his eyes and turns to the man next to him. “Thank you,” he says softly. He can’t keep his eyes from trailing over the bruises, the sight of them becoming less alarming the longer he looks at them.

Anthony stares back, sunglasses once again pushed up to the top of his head, hiding his golden eyes and Zira is around at how much emotion is in their depths. “I never meant to caussse you any pain,” the red head says carefully. “I forget sometimes; everyone hasss different experiences and I...”

Zira watches as his eyes change, the emotions taking on a new shade right in front of his eyes and he finds himself wanting to reach out in some way. “I know you didn’t mean anything. I’m not even sure what happened just now to be perfectly honest. I don’t get those very often.”

Anthony gives him a small smile before silence settles around them again. The city passes by them, the only indicator that time is still ticking away. It’s a comfortable silence, one that Zira finds himself enjoying even as he wonders what to do next. He can’t go back inside, knows it won’t do him any good today, but he really doesn’t want to go home yet either. He probably should, but the thought of being there by himself has his skin crawling.

A Zira starts to grow uncomfortable because of his uncertainty, Anthony turns to him once more. “You know,” the bartender starts. “There’ a ssshop, just down the road that’s open late. We could head there if you want, get a cup of coffee or tea?”

Zira consider the offer for a moment, debating if it’s a good idea or not. He has only just learned the man’s name after all... “Maybe just a quick cup, something to calm my nerves,” he ends up mumbling after a long pause.

He looks over to Anthony, happy the man gave him plenty of time to think. The red head gives him a soft smile before pushing off of the wall and shoves his hands into his pockets as he continues to wait for Zira. Zira takes a big breath, holding it in for a few moments before letting it out slowly. He pushes himself off of the wall with his own smile on his face, even if it’s a little more shy than the others.

The two men fall into step easily with each other, neither of them saying anything as they go. Zira follows Anthony, keeping stride with him with no issue as the two of them head off down the street. Zira feels himself calm further as the cool night air washes over him, helping to clear his head and releasing the last remains of his anxiety. He finds himself glancing at Anthony as they walk, quick little glances that let him build a better picture of the man in his mind.

The sunglasses are placed over the man’s eyes once again, even in the low light of the street they are on, only lit by a few lamps here and there. He wonders about this for a few paces, but tries his best to not let it overtake his thoughts too much; if it’s something he should know about, then Anthony will tell him. Otherwise, it really isn’t any of his business, and he’s all too familiar with people prying into matters that have nothing to do with them. He wants to be curious, but he also doesn’t want to make the other man uncomfortable by prying.

Once he’s put the sunglasses out of his mind, he lets himself notice other aspects of the bartender. The red hair shines in the lamp light. A golden glow shines in the light and the red color still stands out even when it’s dark. With another stolen glance as they turn a corner, Zira takes in just how long that hair actually is, something he has never noticed for some reason. It flows in waves, falling gracefully around his shoulders even though part of it is tied back.

Zira finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from the locks, stealing more and more glances at them as they walk, and part of him starts to hope that their walk never ends. Of course, it does eventually, with a point from Anthony. A door is being held open for Zira and he manages to tear his eyes away from the other in order to take in the new place he finds himself in. A soft wave of coffee and sweets hits him and whatever worries left within Zira melt instantly as his mouth starts to water and his shoulders relax.

They both walk up to the counter and Anthony smiles smoothly at the person behind the counter, instantly charming them. Zira can tell that he’s using his normal customer voice, one he has used with patrons at the bar. He quickly orders a black coffee and waits with a smile flashed at Zira. Zira feels his eyes widen as he turns to scan the tea menu quickly. He’s in an unfamiliar place, given no time to think about what he wants, and he can feel his heart start to race as he continues to not say anything. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, just pick one, just pic-_

“My friend will take a chamomile tea, whichever one you think pair best with that glazed croissant over there,” Anthony adds without any hesitation.

Zira glances in his direction, giving the man his most subtle grateful look before he starts to reach for his wallet. He never even gets the chance to take it out of his pocket though before the other man hands over a card and covers the entire cost. “No wait,” Zira starts. “What was my portion? You don’t have to pay for mine.”

Anthony turns and leads them over to a table in the corner as they wait for their items. “After causing you all of that stress earlier, that’s the least I can do,” he says gently once they are seated.

Zira starts to fiddle with his hands at those words. “I was the one making a mess of things,” he whispers, casting his eyes down towards his hands. “Probably gave everyone else in the bar a shock by reacting like that.”

“Nonsense,” Anthony replies sternly. “Can’t beat yourself up over a reaction you can’t control. I’m the one who started the whole mess and if people at the bar want to make an issue of it later, they’ll have to answer to Anathema.”

With a sad chuckle, Zira looks up again just as their drinks are sat on the table in front of them. Crowley flashes his smile again before turning back to Zira. “Thank you for agreeing to come here with me. Would have been a shame to end on that terrible experience tonight.”

With that, Anthony takes a sip of his coffee, allowing silence to fall around them both again. The smell of the tea drifts up to Zira and he sighs. He can feel the other watching him, waiting patiently and he finally picks up the cup and takes a careful sip of the soothing liquid. This time when his throat burns, it’s a comforting feeling that warms his whole body.

He sits up straighter with another sigh and feels his body relaxing, no longer worrying about who paid and why. “Thank you,” Zira starts. “For ordering.”

Anthony tilts his head as he sinks into his own seat. “Should have given you time to look over the menu; sorry about that. I should have been more mindful.”

Zira only takes another sip of his tea before he remembers the croissant sitting in front of him. “Would you like a bit?” Zira asks as he moves the plate so it sits between them.

Anthony shakes his head. “All for you. Not the biggest fan of food sometimes.”

Looking into those mirrored lenses, Zira only blinks before shrugging internally. He eats the honey glazed pastry slowly, savoring each bite as another comfortable silence falls around them. As the silence stretches, Zira finds he doesn’t mind it at all. They might not know each other well yet, but Zira finds he already loves how calm he feels in the presence of the other man.

As they sit, Anthony quickly finishes his coffee and sinks even more into his seat which has Zira chuckling at the sight. He waves if off as an eyebrow raises above the rim of those glasses. A smile pulls on Anthony’s lips before the red head sighs and reaches up to pull his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes once they are free.

When they open, Zira feels his breath catch and forgets all about the fork in his hand that is halfway to his mouth. Golden eyes, a color he’s never seen as an eye color before blink slowly at him. Zira isn’t sure if they’re some sort of brown or what, but he almost can’t believe the color is natural. When Anthony smiles widely at him again, Zira feels himself blush and finally looks away, clearing his throat and putting his fork back down as he does. “Sorry, didn’t mean to stare,” he mumbles, needing to explain. “I just didn’t notice earlier.”

Anthony only continues to smile, but Zira notices the other man squinting the longer he keeps his glasses off. “Middle of a panic attack is never a good time to notice details, so I’ll forgive you this once.” Anthony runs a hand through his hair, pulling it over one shoulder as he does. “The color tends to throw people off, so I like to get that over with as soon as possible when making a new friend.”

Zira feels himself wiggle a bit at the comment, but manages to keep it contained as he takes another sip of his tea. It’s starting to grow cold, so he pushes it back and leans against the back of his seat. “Is that why you wear those glasses all of the time, that way people don’t notice them?”

The smile on Anthony’s face falls, but barely. Zira almost doesn’t notice it, but he catches the change in those golden eyes as well. “That’s a bit of a longer story,” the other man starts, his words falling off slowly. Zira can see his eyes glaze over a bit and can tell he’s looking at something else entirely. He comes back to himself with a jolt and a more apologetic tinge to his smile. “Mostly, I wear them because of a light sensitivity issue,” he continues as if he never went anywhere.

“Even at the bar though, where the lighting is so dim?” Zira asks, letting the moment pass unmentioned.

“Yeah, it’s a brightness issue, but also a prolonged exposure issue,” Anthony explains further and Zira can hear the gratefulness in his voice. “After an hour or so in low lighting, my eyes ache horribly. Bright lights are almost impossible.”

“Then why have them off in here?” Zira asks. The shop they are in isn’t lit with soft lighting and while it isn’t overly bright, it still has to be close to too bright in Zira’s opinion.

Anthony shrugs, still leaving the glasses where they rest on the table. “Guess I’m just doing my best to let it not bother me in favor of something else entirely.”

Something warms in Zira’s chest at those words, but before he can let himself enjoy the feeling too much, he pushes it back down. _There’s no way, not someone like me, isn’t something I can do anyways..._ The person who brought their cups over comes back to clear the table and politely lets them know they’ll be closing soon. Zira finds the words (and the pained smile) to thank them. When he turns back to Anthony, the red head has covered his eyes again and Zira does his best to not look disappointed as he pulls himself to his feet.

“Well, this was definitely a better way to spend the evening,” Zira starts as turns to Anthony. He goes to continue, but stops himself when he notices the pained look on the others face. “Anthony..?” he asks carefully, noticing the white knuckles on hands that are gripping the table edge and the back of the chair as the man straightens out slowly.

Anthony lets out a very slow breath between his teeth as he finally comes to stand at his full height. “Sssorry,” he mumbles, not looking at Zira. He takes a few hesitant steps and Zira has to resist the urge to reach out for him. “Jointsss tend to lock up sometimesss if I’ve been sitting too long. Fucking annoying when it happensss.”

Zira only waits as Anthony continues trying to stretch his joints, not really sure whet he can or should be doing. He ends up fiddling with his hands as he tries not to watch, pulling on his fingers as he does. When he hears a throat clearing, he’s met with an awkward smile that he hesitates to return. A sweeping arm saves him from having to find one as it gestures him towards the door.

When they are both outside again, Zira finds his voice, even if he still can’t really look at the other man directly. “I know we haven’t known each other for long,” he hears himself start. He feels Anthony turn towards him, but he doesn’t say anything to stop him, so Zira keeps going. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but I was wondering... When we were at the bar, and just now in the cafe, it sounded like you were dragging out your S’s? I’ve not heard you do that before tonight, so I was just curious...”

Zira’s words fall off as he listens to them out loud and hears just how terribly presumptuous they sound. he feels a blush rise to his cheeks as he runs a hand through his curly hair. Before Anthony even has a chance to say anything, Zira starts to backpedal. “I’m sorry, that’s... I never... you don’t have to answer that, I shouldn’t ha-”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Anthony cuts in, stopping Zira’s rambling in its tracks. The taller man moves a step closer to Zira, forcing Zira to finally actually look at him. “Nothing wrong with being curious as long as you’re polite about it,” Anthony tells him softly.

Fighting back the urge to step away once again - _he’ll never_ \- Zira takes a slow breath to steady himself. “Sorry, I just-”

“Please don’t keep saying sorry when you don’t need to.” A hand lands on Zira’s arm and he has to resist looking down at it. It pulls away all too soon though, and Zira finds himself wishing he had looked. “As far as the way I talk, I tend to slip into a weird speech pattern when I have a lot going on. I don’t even notice I”m doing it most of the time anymore, and others, well... When you can’t always control a thing, it tends to piss you off.”

Zira tilts his head at that, completely understanding that feeling. His tendency to blank out has definitely been annoying more than once, but it’s not like he chooses to do it. “Makes sense,” he whispers. “High stress situations bring out strange parts of ourselves sometimes.”

Anthony nods his head before looking away. “Anyways, I should be heading back. Anathema probably still has more yelling at me she wants to do.”

Zira has to chuckle at the thought of Anthony being chastised by the woman from the bar again. “I take it she’s going to have a lot to say about everything that happened.”

“Yeah, most likely,” Anthony says with a huff, but there’s a real smile playing on his lips and Zira can’t help but notice how it lights up his whole face. “She means well though and she really did tell me to stay home. Guess I should have listened to her this one time.”

Silence falls between them again, but only for a moment. Zira finds himself wondering when he got so comfortable around a complete stranger, but he doesn’t think on it for long as he waves goodbye to the bartender. They end up walking in different directions and as Zira heads home, he realizes he never did ask why Anathema called him Crowley, or how he got those bruises. Shaking his head, he files both of those away for later, letting himself hope he’ll be able to ask them next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the support so far! Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

It was over a month before Zira was able to visit the bar again. When Zira finds himself standing in front of the familiar brick wall again one Friday night, he has no idea how he even got here. He isn’t even really sure what’s going on, but here he is.

Try as he might though, he can’t bring himself to open the door in front of him and go inside. People pas by him, flashing him strange look he doesn’t really see so it doesn’t really bother him. He doesn’t even know how much time passes as he stares at the bricks as if he needs to relearn them. It must be a fairly long time though, long enough that someone must mention him when they go back inside after having a smoke because there’s a familiar face in front of him between one blink and the next.

He has no idea how long Anthony has been standing in front of him. Can’t pinpoint the exact moment when red hair bounced into view, but here he is. Zira moves his eyes slowly over the face in front of him, taking in the details as he goes. _The bruises are gone... sunglasses are missing, wonder where those are... Oh, is he trying to talk to me...?_

Zira mentally shakes himself and tires to tune back into the world. Those lips he hasn’t spent enough time thinking about are moving, but Zira can’t hear a thing they are saying. He slaps himself again and braces himself as sound starts to trickle back in around him. The sound of cars passing behind him, the murmurs of conversations happening all around them, that gentle voice talking calmly to him...

“...and then I told Anathema I would check it out since it was probably yet another mouse back there, just like it was last time,” the other man is saying when Zira finally manages to claw his way back to the surface.

Zira blinks and tilts his head as the tail end of whatever story was being told to him ends. Before Anthony can open his mouth, Zira finds himself able to speak finally: “So, was it another mouse then?”

Anthony gives Zira a smile that almost melts his heart. “Nah, just a box that wasn’t stacked right. Keep telling her the mice won’t come back since I told them off last time.”

Zira nods his head sagely as if this makes all the sense in the world before he takes a deep breath. As he lets it out, the world around him comes a little more into focus and he finds himself wondering what to do next. “Anthony, I-” he starts before he is immediately cut off.

“Had some people that came inside and let me know you were out here,” the other says, his voice noticeably softer. “Kept happening, so I thought I’d better check it out. Course, didn’t know it was actually you, not until I got out here. I knew you weren’t really here though, so I waited for the rest of you to catch up.”

As the words sink in, Zira finds himself wanting to run away and hide somewhere else far away from the man in front of him. He can feel his face heating up and only hopes it doesn’t show up in the low nighttime lighting. “I...” he tries again before his words trail off without even getting anywhere.

“I knew you’d come back to me eventually,” Anthony starts when Zira doesn’t start again. The double meaning behind the bartender’s words don’t go unnoticed by Zira and he feels his face heat up even more. “Just took some patience on my end, which let me tell you, I’m terrible with; ask Anathema. All worked out in the end though, yeah?”

The words wash over Zira and it takes his brain longer than it should to process the fact that this man was actually waiting for him to come back. _Bet he says that to a lot of people... It’s probably only because you overpay, no way he was actually waiting for you._

“Come inside, yeah? You’re worrying me, standing out here like this,” Anthony whispers, breaking through Zira’s thoughts once again. He almost misses the look that passes across the other man’s face and probably would have if he wasn’t looking so hard.

Zira finds he still doesn’t have the words he wants, so instead, he nods his head and lets himself be lead inside. He lets the door be held open for him, follows flaming red hair when Anthony moves to walk in front of him, does everything he can to let the calming feeling inside the bar settle over him. His seat is once again open for him and Zira gladly falls into it, receiving a cheeky grin from the man next to him. Glasses have once again been moved to cover golden eyes and Zira feels his heart fall a little, but knows the other needs the comfort more.

“Better?” Anthony asks once they are both sitting, and it doesn’t escape Zira that the red head has yet to leave his side, even though he probably has to get back to work.

Just being inside the building instantly helps to lower Zira’s stress levels. He isn’t quite sure what it is about this place, but he nods his head anyways at the question, since it’s the truth.

“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” Anthony says as his face lights up with a smile. “Now, let’s get you a drink, though I’m thinking something not very strong maybe, yeah?”

Once again, Zira nods, knowing he probably should take it easy, especially since he still doesn’t really know how he even ended up here in the first place. It’s different than the first time he found himself here; thinking back, he can at least remember a shit day at work, knows he had thought about getting a drink while he walked around the city. Made the conscious decision to stop at the bar once he happened to run across it. This time though... If he’s being honest with himself, he can’t even remember leaving work that day. The more he thinks about it, the harder he tries to think back on what exactly happened, the less he can recall.

“Hey, look at me,” a voice says, snapping Zira out of his spiraling thoughts. Sunglasses reflect the panicked look on his face and Zira finds he is once again being saved from his own mind by the man standing in front of him. “Where did you go?”

Zira shakes his head at the question, lowering his eyes down to his hands that are trembling in front of him. “I was just... trying to figure out how I got here tonight...” He knows his voice is soft, knows he probably shouldn’t have admitted any of that aloud, but something about Anthony, a man he barely even knows...

“That’s... not good, if I’m being honest,” the other man replies finally after a few too many heartbeats pass between them. A glass is set down in front of Zira, but he still can’t lift his eyes back up. “What were you doing before you made it here? Work, I’m guessing?” Anthony asks and Zira can tell he’s trying hard to help.

“I...” Zira starts, still trying to think back to his day. He had to have gone to work, right? He’s wearing work clothes at any rate, so he must have...

A loud voice startles him out of his thoughts before he can even think of anything, making him jump slightly as he picks his head up to look at the source. “CROWLEY! Back to work, for fuck’s sake!” Anathema hollers as she comes from the back room. “I swear, you act like you can just slack off whenever you want some nights.”

Anthony gives Zira an apologetic look before he turns to face the tirade that has arrived next to him. “Alright, alright, I’ll go pour some pints, no need to yell!” the red head chuckles as he raises his hands.

Zira ends up watching Anthony as the night passes from his seat at the bar top. He soon notices that the man has a way of seeing what every customer needs before it’s even asked for and has it ready for them almost instantly. Anathema joins him occasionally, slipping into support with only a glance at what’s going on, or with a small nod from the red head. For being a Friday night at a bar, it never gets too busy, Zira notices and he wonders if this is how it’s been every Friday. He honestly can’t remember.

The glass in front of him goes untouched, only used to keep his hands busy for the most part as he holds it. He sees Anthony flash him a look every now and again, but the man doesn’t come back his way against for a while. Zira doesn’t mind, he finds. He’s enjoying just being able to relax as he tires to remember how he even ended up here in the first place. The details are still escaping him and if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t really recall most of the past month.

There are flashes, specific events he can remember vividly, but that’s really it; only those handful of moments jump out at him and the rest of it fades to a blur. Zira’s eyes trail down to his hands, his mind whirling as he tries to make a few pieces turn into a complete picture. _There’s something broken in you, something that can’t be fixed, and it will just destroy-_ Zira sighs heavily, doing what he can to banish the thoughts before they get worse.

“Start with what you do remember and work from there,” he whispers to himself. It’s an old trick, one he’s used before and he knows it isn’t perfect, but it’s a start.

The events from the cafe he remembers perfectly: getting coffee and tea with Anthony, sitting and talking, knowing it was only going to be a week before he got to see the other again. He remembers walking home, knows he got there alright and knows he spent the next day relaxing and reading for the most part, same as any Saturday. That’s when things start to get fuzzy and Zira sighs again. He has no idea what he did the next day.

“Doing ok?”

Zira looks up at the sound of a voice across from him and ends up staring into dark brown eyes full of so much warmth. Anathema has a soft look on her face that’s hiding other emotions Zira can’t quite pick apart right in this moment. A quick glance shows him Anthony is hard at work at the other end of the bar, so he knows he doesn’t have to worry about being overheard right now. “If I’m being honest,” he starts, looking back at the woman in front of him. “I don’t really know how I’m doing.”

Anathema’s face shifts and Zira is able to pick up on the concern hiding on the surface. Part of him wants to feel embarrassed by this fact, but another part tells him that he should let others care about him every now and then. “He was worried about you, you know,” Anathema says gently, looking over her shoulder at the man down the bar. “When you kept not showing up. He didn’t really say anything, but I’ve known him long enough to know.”

Zira feels something in him break at those words, even if he doesn’t really know what it means. “He was worried...?” he repeats as his brain tries to catch up.

Anathema nods. “Yeah,” she whispers as she keeps an eye on Anthony. “He kept looking for you on Fridays. Would glance towards the door whenever it was around the time you would usually show up. The first week or two he kept it up for hours, later than you would ever show up. He started looking less for you though as the month passed. Don’t think it was quite giving up, but I could tell it was different. The worry on his face never went away though, not that many people would have been able to spot it.”

As she speaks, Anathema looks back to Zira and he feels himself being dragged into those warm eyes. While he’s only seen her stricter side in the past, this softer side of her has him reeling. He’s not used to this much concern being directed at him and he really doesn’t know how to respond to it. So he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his eyes back to his own hands, unable to take the full force of the look in Anathema’s eyes any longer, and he hopes she understands.

Anathema is quiet for a long moment and Zira starts to wonder if he’s offended her, or even if she slunk off without saying anything else. Eventually though, she starts talking again: “Listen, I don’t know you. He doesn’t really even know you. And that’s alright. You don’t really know us either, but you should know at least one thing.” She pauses and Zira can feel the weight of her words as she gives them time to sink in. “He cares about you, more than I’ve seen him care about someone in a long time. There’s nothing wrong with that, not in my book anyways. I just need you to know that there is someone out there that does care.”

At that final bit from Anathema, Zira manages to pull his head up again and locks eyes with the woman. Her stare still holds that same softness, that same concern he saw earlier, but there is definitely a fire burning behind them and Zira feels its flames instantly. The heat of them tells Zira that there isn’t anything this woman won’t do for the red haired man still casually pouring pints and talking to other patrons like he doesn’t have a care in the world. She will protect him, no matter the cost, and Zira finds himself respecting that, even if there is a touch of fear coursing through him now. After a few moments, long enough to let Anathema know he has indeed thought about her words and is taking them to heart, he nods. Only once, but he knows it’s enough.

Before either of them has a chance to say any more on the subject, Anthony appears next to Anathema, a smile playing on the edges of his lips. “Are you subjecting this poor man to your delightfully cheery presence right now?”

This must be a running joke between the two Zira notices, because Anathema’s eyes roll harder than Zira thought possible. “Ah yes, that’s the thing that keeps people coming to this bar, or did you forgets?” Anathema retorts, voice full of sarcasm.

She flicks Zira one last look before turning away from him completely and Zira feels a wave of gratitude wash over him. He finds he can’t continue to look at either of them, even as they continue to talk in front of him. He doesn’t tune into their conversation, but he can tell they continue to joke and rib each other based off of the tone alone. As they fade into the background, his mind drifts away again, going back to what was on his mind before Anathema came over to him. He still can’t piece it all together, still can’t really think back to what happened that Sunday even, and he knows it’s going to bug him until he does.

“I’m happy you came by this week,” Anthony says, voice just loud enough to pierce through Zira’s thoughts. The words wrap themselves around Zira and he feels it warm a part of him. “It’s really nice to be able to see you again.”

Zira lifts his head and once more finds himself staring into those golden eyes. A weak smile spreads across his face, one he can’t help in the face of that smile the other is giving him. “I’m glad I came back too,” he hears himself whisper and he knows the words are more true than he ever thought they could be. “I’m only sorry it took so long.”

Anthony nods at this and Zira feels a little lighter. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other very well, but can I be honest with you for a moment?” Anthony asks and Zira feels himself tense right back up. He nods all the same though, his heart already pounding in his chest from such a simple question. “I was worried when you stopped showing up. At first, I thought I might have said or done something when we were at the cafe and it ate away at me for longer than it probably should have.”

The sadness in those golden eyes mixed with those words makes Zira’s heart drop. He opens his mouth, needing to make sure the other man knows he never did anything to push Zira away, but before he can, Anthony shakes his head at him. “No wait, please. I just want to get this all out before I lose the chance to...” he says and Zira closes his mouth again, doing his best to respect what the other needs right now. “When I realized that if that was really the issue, I wouldn’t be this worried or concerned, well, I got even more worried. Because that had to mean that there was something wrong with you, or that you had something happen that was preventing you from stopping by, and that was even worse.”

“I wish I could tell you that you didn’t have a reason to worry,” Zira hears himself whisper. He knows that his words aren’t going to do anything to make Anthony feel better, but it’s the truth and he knows hiding it won’t change anything.

Anthony’s eyes flick away momentarily, moving around the bar before returning to settle on Zira’s own. When they come back, Zira can tell the worry in them has only grown, even if they still shine with plenty of other emotions that have Zira overwhelmed. “See, that was the hardest part; the not knowing. Still is, really, but there is a way you can make it up to me right now, if you want.”

At this, Zira tilts his head, wondering what the other could possibly want from him. They still haven’t gotten to know each other very well, still aren’t exactly close enough to ask real favors of each other yet. _The only way you’re going to find out is by saying yes, you know..._ After a little bit longer, Zira finally nods, deciding to wait to actually hear what the favor is before he makes a real decision.

“You can make it up to me by telling me your name,” Anthony finishes, and Zira can’t help but be startled by the question. He quickly thinks back to the handful of times the two of them have talked to each other, going through every conversation as fast as he can. Even after learning the others name, after spending time at the cafe together...

“Ah, I’m so sorry,” Zira replies quickly. “I can’t believe... Where are my manners lately. My name is Zira, or at least, that’s the name I go by.”

“Zira,” Anthony repeats and Zira does everything he can to hide the shiver that runs down his spine as he hears his name fall from the red head’s lips. “That’s a name I’ve never heard before. I like it.”

Anthony’s compliments only serve to run another shiver down Zira’s spine and he feels his breath catch. He quickly gets himself back under control though, not wanting (or needing) to make Anthony think he’s a complete idiot after finally bringing himself back to this place. “Yeah, it’s uh.... kind of a nickname that I chose to make my name. I never really cared for my given name, so... yeah...” he finises lamely. _Going to think you’re strange, going to think there’s something wrong with you, going to hate you, going to-_

“I understand that,” Anthony says with a nod. “I never really cared for my family name, so I changed it when I moved away from them all. I tend to still use my first name though, but that’s really only a formality.”

“Oh, I was going to ask you about that last time we spoke!” Zira exclaims, eagerly jumping on the switch in subject matter before the conversation can be turned back around again. “I’ve heard Anathema call you Crowley a handful of times now; is that the name you prefer to go by?”

Anthony chuckles and Zira has a feeling he knows what Zira was trying to accomplish with his question, but the bartender lets it slide and Zira feels himself breathing a little easier. “It’s the name I picked out for me. Something I read a long time ago and just never let go of. It tends to get a lot of questions that I don’t always feel like answering though, so I don’t tend to tell many people that name unless I’ve gotten to know them pretty well. Anathema gets to count herself as one of the lucky few.”

“Well, I for one think it’s a nice name, not that my opinion matters much,” Zira tells him. He rolls the name around in his head more, finding that it matches the face in front of him better than Anthony ever has, but he can also understand how it would be a name that would bring about a lot of questions.

“I’m glad you like it,” Anthony says with a chuckle. “You’re more than welcome to use it, if you want.”

“I... thank you, Crowley,” Zira replies softly and hopes the blush that is rising in his cheeks isn’t visible in the low light of the bar.

Silence falls between the two of them once again, but Zira still finds he doesn’t mind it in the slightest. Just as talking to this man comes easily to him, Zira is happy that they can both just sit with each other, not needing to say anything, just as easily. He’s never been a man that needs to say much in order to get his point across, but finding people that accept that fact about him has always been a struggle in life for him. Especially when it comes to work.

After what feels like a long while, Crowley gives Zira one last smile before turning back to his own job. Sunglasses quickly fall back into place, hiding those golden eyes from the world once again, and Zira sits and watches the bartender for a while. The man moves around his environment so easily, interacts with every customer with a practiced patience and a joyfulness that lights up his whole face. Zira can’t keep his eyes off of the man’s face, can’t help but watch the smiles that dance along those lips, and doesn’t even care how much time passes.

After a long while though, he knows it’s time to move on for the night. He gets up as quickly and carefully as he can, not wanting to draw attention to himself as he slips away, but Crowley notices before he even makes it to the end of the bar. Zira gives the man the biggest smile he can manage at the moment, one that is returned after only a moment. Zira pushes everything he can into his smile, promising to be back soon with it, promising to not disappear again. The other seems to be able to read this in Zira’s smile, or at least, that’s what Zira tells himself as he is given an even bigger smile in return before the bartender returns to his job once again.

As Zira pushes his way out of the bar, taking a deep breath of fresh air as he goes, he knows that no matter what happens in his life this upcoming week, no matter how badly he disappears from himself again, he will be back here at the end of it. There’s nothing that will keep him from returning exactly when he’s supposed to ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot it was Wednesday! Got this in just in time though


	4. Chapter 4

The following day, Zira finds himself heading towards his favorite shop. He doesn’t have a ton of money to spare at the moment, but after everything that’s been going on, he needs a day for himself. Plus, it’s one of the few places he actually feels happy at, somewhere that hasn’t been ruined for him, so he’ll enjoy it as much as he wants, thank you very much.

A bell tinkles as he opens the doors, ringing cheerfully around the shop as the smell of old paper and leather washes over him. A smile grows his face as Zira feels his entire being relax. Standing in the center of the room, he looks around the place, waiting to see where he should start today. He doesn’t need or want anything specific, but he never really has whenever he’s swung by here; he’s learned that half of the fun is just discovering what to read next anyways.

As he finally moves away from the door and wanders over to a shelf, Zira can’t help but get lost in the simple routine. He’s gone over these shelves more times than he can really count anymore, but he always finds something new, a title that didn’t catch his attention the time before, so the routine never really grows old for him.

It’s been a way for him to spend a Saturday here and there for as long as he can remember. Even when his life was falling apart (_no, don’t dwell on that, you’ve moved past that, don’t think too hard about it_) it was his one saving grace. Now that life has settled, is letting him catch his breath again, going to the bookshop still remains a highlight in life for him. It’s kept him going even when nothing else has.

Fingers run over worn spines, eyes trace title after title. Zira can’t help but think about how much he would love for this to be a place for himself one day, or something similar to it at least. Not that he would ever want to part with his own collection of books, but being able to own a space like this, one that feels so very much like home...

Zira shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away as he does. It won’t do him any good to think too hard about something that will never happen; he’s had to learn that the hard way. Shoving that dream aside, Zira goes back to letting his mind wander and while he shouldn’t be surprised by what it goes to next, it still makes him pause.

Red hair, mirrored glasses, and a crooked smile fills his mind as he moves on to a new shelf, a book tucked securely under his arm. _Crowley..._ Zira rolls the name around in his head, finding he likes it more in the new day than he did the night before. Something about a name people chose to use for themselves... Zira finds it fits the person more than given names ever really do. That soft voice saying his own name echoes around his head and Zira finds a blush is creeping over his face as he remembers it.

A fond smile grows on his face and stays there longer than any smile has in a long time. When he goes to check out hours later (he might have gotten sidetracked for a moment or two at one point), the smile is still on his face even though his thoughts have moved on to other things. Much as he hates it, Zira starts to think to the week ahead, planning out what he can as busies himself with checking out.

The rest of the weekend passes without incident and he’s grateful when he can remember all of it come Monday morning. Much as he hates having to head to work once again, it’s better knowing he hasn’t completely disassociated once again for some unknown reason. Shoving his way into the building , Zira gives himself a moment to adjust to the blindingly white lights before he continues on, his fake smile securely in place. He barely makes it to his office before that loud voice comes thundering down the halls and stops outside of his door.

Zira only has a few seconds to brace himself before he’s assaulted by sound on top of light. “Zira!” Gabriel hollers as his way of greeting. Zira only barely suppresses a sigh; it’s entirely too early on this Monday morning for this amount of energy, but he squares up to face it as best as he can anyways. “How was your weekend? Spend it doing anything different? Something new and exciting?”

“Well, I-” Zira starts, but he doesn’t get far, just as he expects.

“Great! Hey, listen, I need a favor, but I have a question first,” Gabriel interrupts and Zira hides yet another sigh. “Everyone is still wondering if you’ve called anyone from that list yet! After hardly even seeing you last month after hours, we all thought surely someone!”

Zira flinches. “No, Gabriel, I haven’t -”

“That’s what I told everyone,” Gabriel interjects. “Told them all I’m sure we would have heard at least something by now if you had, but here we are! Do you need help with it? Want one of us to call a few of them and set you two up? Wouldn’t be any trouble, really. Heard there is a new hire down in billing you might be interested in. Tall, blonde hair, well put together.”

“Gabriel, that’s quite alright, really,” Zira says in a flustered rush as soon as he gets a chance to speak. “Just not something I’m... interested in right now, but if I ever need help, I know just who to ask!” he finishes with a painful smile, one he hopes Gabriel will fall for. Silence settles over them for a moment, deafening after how loud Gabriel has been.

It doesn’t last long though as Gabriel smiles again and seems to accept the answer. “Well, if you’re sure! Now, about that favor...”

Zira releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding on to, letting some of the tension out of his body before tuning back into Gabriel. As he listens to the favor the other needs, he knows it’s going to make his work week hell, but he almost doesn’t mind. There’s going to be a lot of extra work he will have to do before Friday now, but it will at least keep his mind occupied. And if he ends up declining an invitation on Friday night, he’ll be able to use this as an excuse to slip away to the place he really wants to go to.

The week ends up going by so slowly, Zira is almost convinced that time has just stopped completely at some points. After a few set backs, minor struggles, and more than one unwanted conversation with Gabriel, Zira manages to make it through the week without completely losing his mind. He prints off the files Gabriel has had him working on just before he leaves on Friday, slipping them under the man’s office door that is already locked and closed for the weekend. Once it’s out of his sight, Zira feels a weight lift from his chest even if he doesn’t feel completely ok with what he’s done for the man. Shivering, Zira slips away as quickly as he can and makes his way out of the building.

Once he’s outside, Zira realizes he’s left work with plenty of time to run home and drop off of his work stuff. For once, he doesn’t need to show up to the bar with clothes he’s worn all day and with his bag, so he decides to take the chance while he has it. He quickly races to catch the bus, knowing it will pass by the front of his office any moment. It’s the fastest way home for him at this time of day, and he’s in no rush to waste any time. Not when he has something exciting to look forward to.

Settling into a seat quickly, Zira allows his mind to wander as he takes a few moments to just relax. He can’t really help but think about the work he has just completed, not when it’s so fresh on his mind. It wasn’t the worst thing Gabriel has ever asked him to do, but it is definitely still one of those things that makes him question why he still works for this place. _Because they pay you enough you to cover your rent. Because when you were left on your own, they were still there for you. Because you owe them, don’t you. Owe them more than you will ever be able to repay, so maybe just shut-_

Sighing, Zira turns his head to look out of the window so he can watch the city pass by. He knows that this company has done a lot for him. That the people he works with, Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, have done a lot for him. As much as he dislikes them sometimes, they’ve stuck with him through a lot and Zira wonders if he can ever really repay them. He might work under them still, but they let him move through the ranks faster than anyone ever should have been able to, and it’s because of that that Zira was able to plant two feet on the ground again and learn how to support himself once more. In more ways than one.

Even after working with these people for so long, Zira still doesn’t really know exactly what this company even does. He knows they support a lot of smaller places, lording over them as a corporate backer when the money runs dry and they need to be bailed out. He also knows that the company as a whole uses its size and reputation to influence a lot of major decisions around the world, even if they aren’t always the moral choice to make. If something ends up falling through or failing because of that decision, the company is never the one to take the hit. Gabriel makes sure of that and he usually ensures it by having a smaller company take the hit, letting them fall in its place.

Zira hates it.

Hates working for such a hive minded organization, but at the end of the day, what else is there really for him? Sure he has dreams, but he knows he will never be able to truly accomplish them or act on them. That’s what he tells himself anyways. So as he rides the bus home, Zira allows his thoughts to turn to something that he might actually be able to have. Thoughts of red hair flick through his mind for the hundredth time this week and Zira feels a smile appear on his face as his bus pulls up to his stop finally.

Once he exits the bus, it doesn’t take Zira long to walk the rest of the way to his apartment, where he quickly lets himself in. He drops his work bag by the door, its resting place for the next few days where it can be forgotten about. After he hangs up his coat in the hall closet, he moves to his room and throws on clothes that feel more like him. Something that he will actually be comfortable in when he heads to the bar to spend his Friday evening. He throws on a sky blue shirt, one he’s had for long enough for it’s become soft to the touch, along with a vest he’s had for so long now, he can’t really remember where it even came from. It’s also soft, due to the velvet it’s made out of, and while it looks a little old fashioned, Zira has never really minded. He quickly does up his favorite bow tie to complete the look before running a hand through his white curls. There isn’t really anything he can do with them, but habits are hard to break.

After he’s all dressed, Zira grabs a different jacket to wear as he leaves his apartment once again, stopping to turn on a light near the entrance so he doesn’t have to fumble around in the dark when he gets back. Night vision has never been a strong suit of his (he blames the office lighting). He decides to walk to the bar, familiar with the path he needs to take now to get there. The streets are starting to fill with younger people as the work and school day ends for more people, but nothing too crowded. Nothing that makes Zira feel uncomfortable as he moves down the sidewalks.

As he gets closer to the bar, Zira feels his heart start to beat harder and he realizes this is the first time he’s come here after having made the completely conscious decision to do so. It’s the first time he can even remember making the trip at all instead of just showing up randomly. Part of him is terrified by this fact, for reasons he doesn’t know how to process right at this moment. Most of him is excited though and he knows a wide smile graces his face as he finally gets to the old wooden door surrounded by worn bricks.

Talking a deep breath as he adjusts his vest subconsciously, he eyes the door before finally pushing it open. Scanning the bar, he immediately notices it still isn’t very crowded, but there’s a strange buzz running around the place that he picks up on almost instantly. He looks around more as he walks over to his usual seat that is empty as always, but nothing sticks out to him, so he settles in his chair to wait.

Neither Anathema nor Crowley appear after a few moments and Zira starts to wonder if there really is more going on that he hasn’t noticed yet. Just as he gets ready to lean over and ask the person next to him if there’s something he missed, a loud bang from the direction of the back room makes Zira jump. Another bang follows a few seconds after as heads turn towards the back room door. Voices can be heard shouting, getting closer and Zira finds he doesn’t have to strain much to hear what’s being said.

“You still shouldn’t have-”

“He fucking deserved it!”

“I never said he didn’t!”

“Then why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not, you bloody idiot!”

The voices get closer and Zira has to wonder what Crowley has gotten mixed up with now. _Can’t be any good, judging by the sound of Anathema’s voice..._ Before he can think on it for too long, the door flies open and the two bartenders come storming through, Crowley in the lead by a few paces.

“Get back here will you!” Anathema hollers even as she follows. “You’re going to freak out the customers!”

Zira turns his eyes away from the pair long enough to look around the place. No one seems particularly bothered by what’s going on and Zira finds himself wondering how often this happens around here. He quickly turns back to watch the pair, trying to get any clues he can to figure out what is happening.

“As if everyone here isn’t used to this shit by now. Pretty sure everyone is just as happy that that asshole is gone as I am!” Crowley throws back. Several heads nod around the place backing up the red head’s words.

“Oh for the love of-”

“Not to mention!” Crowley interrupts. “It’s Friday and I’ll be damned if I- oh, hello.”

Crowley turns as he speaks and uncovered eyes land on Zira’s own. Several thoughts fly through Zira’s mind at once and he finds he’s having a hard time holding on to any of them. “Hello,” he finally whispers when he gives up on trying to hold onto any of them.

“You’re here,” Crowley says, voice so much softer than it was moments ago.

“I’m here,” Zira replies.

“And you’re bleeding all over the bar,” Anathema growls as she presses a rag to the cut on Crowley’s face.

Crowley winces before turning to Anathema. “Yes, I’m aware, thank you,” Crowley mumbles as the rag is used to wipe away some of the blood.

“Now that you’ve seen him, can you please come back to the back?” Anathema mutters, her own voice lowering. “He can come too if it will make you behave.”

Crowley shoots Anathema a look full of daggers before looking back at Zira. “Coming with?”

Zira can only stare, still stuck by the sight in front of him. His mind starts to race again, but the thoughts slow down enough for him to process them this time as he looks into golden eyes. “You can ask all the questions you want back there, I promise,” Crowley whispers as if everyone can hear everything that is going on in Zira’s head. Zira nods finally and moves off of the bar stool.

When he gets to the end of the counter, Anathema meets him and hands him a fistful of clean rags. “You’ll need these and the rest of the supplies are already sitting out. I would clean this up myself, but someone has to serve the customers.”

Zira nods dumbly, taking the towels from her as he moves to stand behind the counter. Crowley moves up next to him, nudges him, and then leads them both to the backroom. As the door swings shut behind them, Zira catches the sound of Anathema sighing and wonders what he has gotten himself mixed up with. He follows Crowley through the backroom until they reach a set of stairs leading up. Crowley nods towards them before leading Zira up, oddly quiet after all of the shouting from just moments ago.

As Zira follows, his brain finally catches up again as he actually takes in what Crowley is wearing. As Zira thinks back on it, he’s only ever seen black skinny jeans and nicer shirts on the bartender. Right now though, the red head is dressing in something very different and Zira finds himself wondering if this is a regular thing. Ankle boots with a heel that’s higher than Zira would ever dare to wear are paired with black lace stockings and a skirt that shows off a lot of leg. Zira can’t picture what the shirt looks like from the front, but the tight black material hugs the slim frame in all kinds of places.

Zira doesn’t have long to think about it though before Crowley reaches the top of the stairs and pushes open the door that they end up in front of. “Anathema’s flat is through here,” Crowley explains as they step into the space. “She was trying to get me patched up earlier, but well, I’ve never been the best impromptu patient in the world. Guess that wouldn’t be a problem though if I stopped getting into fights.”

“I take it this is a regular occurrence then,” Zira mumbles as he looks around the place. For a flat above a bar, it’s pretty open and Zira can tell there’s plenty of light during the daytime judging by all of the windows. He slips his coat off, draping it over the nearest chair before he follows Crowley as they walk over to a door that leads to a bedroom, which in turn leads to a bathroom. Medical supplies litter the counter space and with a loud sigh, Crowley flops onto a bench seat that’s against a wall.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing terrible,” Crowley explains. “Won’t need more than a good cleaning I’m thinking.”

Zira only blinks as he takes in the tired form in front of him. He moves to set the rags down on what is left of the counter space before he moves to kneel in front of Crowley. “Well, might as well let me take a look then,” Zira whispers as he moves to pull the rag away from Crowley’s face. He can tell pretty quickly that most of the bleeding has stopped, but it definitely still needs some cleaning.

“Stupid really,” Crowley mutters. “Fucking pricks everywhere. Can’t just have one day without having to explain myself to random strangers. Gets exhausting...”

Zira hums, not really sure what the other truly means, but he thinks he has an idea. “I can see how that would be annoying,” he says as he dances his fingers over cuts and scrapes. As he assess them, golden eyes flick to the floor, doing their best to hide from him. Zira only waits though, knowing Crowley will talk when they’re ready to.

As Zira gets up to grab a gauze pad and a bottle of antiseptic from the supplies, he hears Crowley shift behind him. “I just... I wanted to dress the way I want to while working for once... It’s so hard presenting as someone I don’t always feel like all of the time... Especially when I don’t even feel like a man some days.”

Crowley’s voice lowers to the softest whisper Zira has ever heard from them and he can tell how hard this conversation is for the other to have. Zira takes a few moments before he turns around, letting the hesitant confession sink in.

When he turns around again, Zira finds Crowley still staring at the floor. He takes the two steps to Crowley’s side and finds himself pausing, not really sure what to say or where to start. “Is it alright if I touch you?” he asks, not wanting to push anything right now. He waits until red gold hair bobs ever so subtly before he kneels next to the bartender, reaching out for the angled chin. Gentle as he can, Zira turns it until golden eyes are looking at him once more.

They search his own and Zira can’t help the heart break that’s building in him at the sight of so much need and desperation to be accepted. “I know we don’t know each other extremely well yet,” he starts and those eyes widen slightly. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I think you’re absolutely beautiful tonight, my dear.”

A few heartbeats pass and then golden eyes are filling with tears as Zira’s words sink in. He can tell the moment his acceptance washes over Crowley, can see the change take place in their eyes, and his heart breaks even more. A smile stretches across those features and Zira moves his hand so he can stroke his thumb over Crowley’s cheek, softly wiping away the tear that has managed to slip free.

“Let’s get you taken care of, yes?” he says, not wanting to rush Crowley. He’s relieved when he gets a real nod in response and switches to a better position, moving to sit on the bench. He reaches over again to wipe away the blood that’s starting to dry.

Crowley hisses when Zira uses the antiseptic, but doesn’t flinch away. Zira can tell they looking at their hands again and he can see they want to say something written; it’s all over their face that they wants to see and Zira waits. When he gets up again to grab a clean towel, he can hear them shift behind him. “Thank you,” Crowley whispers behind him.

Zira lifts his eyes to look in the mirror and finds a pair searching for his own. He wants to tell Crowley that he doesn’t need to be thanked, wants to give voice to the questions in his head, but that simple look tells him so much. Tells him how much Crowley needs this, wants this..._ We can always talk about it all later_, Zira tells himself, the thoughts of there even being later washing over him, sending chills down his spine. “Of course,” is all he says before he turns back to Crowley and goes back to cleaning her up.

Another one of those peaceful quiets falls over them and Zira settles into it, grateful that it still feels right. He has so much he wants to ask, wants so badly to get this right, but he knows he will be able to tackle it all eventually. Crowley doesn’t seem like they want Zira to go anywhere, so Zira knows they’ll be able to figure this all out as best as they can one day. For now, he allows himself to get lost in this moment, needing the peace and he knows that Crowley probably does as well.

⁂

After Zira has gotten Crowley mostly cleaned up, he clears away the used supplies before he sits next to his friend again. While most of his questions can wait for another time, there are a few he needs to ask now. As he sits, he can tell the moment Crowley tenses, as if they’ve prepared for this, and Zira wants so badly to reach out to them and let them know everything is going to be alright. He doesn’t need to know anything more than Crowley is willing to share and would never ask for more than that. “Feeling better?” Zira asks, starting with what he thinks is the easiest of the questions.

Crowley blinks at him and Zira can see the shock hiding behind those golden eyes even as they seem to be waiting for the worst to come. _They think I’m going to push them away..._ Zira realizes and the urge to reassure Crowley only grows stronger. His hands twitch in his lap, but he doesn’t move, can’t bring himself to push against boundaries he is unaware of right now. They’ve still only really met a handful of times and he doesn’t want to completely ruin this before they’ve even started anything.

“I...yeah,” Crowley says, not quite looking at Zira. “Thanksss, for the help.”

Zira notices the hiss and the wince that follows it, but he does everything he can to pretend neither of them happened. “I’m glad. And I’m always happy to help, if I can,” Zira tells the other, trying to put as much comfort into his words as he can. Taking a deep breath, Zira mulls over the words once more, needing to get this right. “If it’s ok, I was wondering if I can ask a question or two? I... I want to make sure-”

“You can ask, Zira,” Crowley interrupts, doing everything they can to no look at Zira. “Everyone always asks something eventually... Just... If the answers are going to make you leave, just leave. I don’t have the energy for this right now.”

Zira breaks even more at those words and it’s all he can do to not wrap the person next to him tightly in his arms. It takes him longer to get his words back under control and he knows it’s only making things look worse, but he just can’t process anything after seeing the hurt flaring behind those beautiful eyes. “Crowley, dear...” he finally says and watches as the other winces again, shying away from him a bit. Crowley hangs their head as they wait for the rest of Zira’s sentence, red hair draping over their face, completely covering it from view. “I was just wondering, because I don’t want to end up hurting you in any way, what pronouns I should be using when you have days you don’t really feel like a man?”

Crowley doesn’t move and Zira starts to fear he’s done something wrong, wonders if he asked something he shouldn’t have. The words to apologize are on his lips, ready to be said, but before he can, a whisper reaches his ears. “No ones ever really asked me that before.” Crowley’s voice is so soft that Zira has to strain so hard to hear them. “Not even Anathema, though I think she knows I would just tell her so she never really bothered to ask.”

Zira hears a sniff and watches as Crowley rubs at their face from behind the curtain of hair still separating them. He waits, letting Crowley gather himself for a moment before he reaches out slowly, giving the other plenty of time to stop him if they want. With just the tips of his fingers, Zira very carefully moves that curtain of hair aside, wanting to see those golden eyes. Pushing as much as he can through his own eyes, he does everything he can to let Crowley know they can trust him, can count on him. He might not completely understand Crowley’s situation, but he’s willing to learn, and he certainly isn’t going to just stop being a part of the others life.

“Crowley,” Zira whispers back finally. “I just want to do whatever I can to help you be comfortable. I’m glad you told me, really I am.”

Crowley smiles weakly at Zira. “I...” they start again and Zira waits patiently as he removes his hand from the red hair. After a moment, Crowley seems to gather his thoughts, taking a deep breath before he goes to talk again. “I prefer to go by male pronouns most of the time. I’ve never really used anything else; never had anyone offer to use anything else...”

Crowley’s eyes fall again, but this time, they don’t hide behind their hair at least. Zira watches as they fiddle with the edge of their skirt, and his eyes end up tracing the patterns in the lace stockings as he waits for Crowley to continue. He has one more thing he wants to ask, but for now, Crowley’s comfort is the most important thing and he’ll wait as long as he needs to. “They and them would be nice occasionally, I think, especially on days like today,” Crowley finally says after thinking on it for a bit.

“That sounds great, my dear,” Zira replies once he can tell Crowley’s done talking. “I will go with whatever you want, and if anything ever changes, please let me know, ok?”

With eyes that are filling with tears once again, Crowley gives Zira a very watery smile. The two sit and talk for some time after, not about anything important, but Zira can tell it’s enough to calm Crowley back down. He can tell the other is starting to get tired though, so he ends up helping Crowley clean up the rest of the mess in the bathroom before he goes to grab his coat. Crowley meets him at the door, heeled boots finally kicked off and a hoodie pulled over their arms.

“Thank you, Zira,” Crowley whispers and Zira has to fight the urge once more to tell them they don’t have to do that. “Will I see you again soon?”

Zira nods, hoping he is telling the truth. _You’re going to do it again, going to ruin everything, going to fuck up once more-_ “I’ll be back soon, but if I’m not for some reason...” Digging in his pocket, Zira pulls out his phone and hands it over to the person that’s slowly becoming the closest person he has in his life. “Here, go ahead and add yourself to this, that way you can get in touch with me if you need to.”

Crowley stares down at the device and Zira feels a blush creep over his face. It isn’t the best phone on the market. Isn’t even really a new one, but it gets the job done. Answers call, texts, and even lets him access work emails, which is all he’s ever needed from it. Crowley doesn’t end up saying anything, which Zira appreciates, but the smirk that stretches across that face isn’t missed either. Crowley hands the phone back, along with their own that they pull from a pocket in the hoodie. Zira quickly adds his contact information before handing it back once more.

Once that’s done, the two of them stare at each other for a moment longer before Zira finally moves towards the door once more. “Take care of yourself, alright? No more fights, at least not tonight,” Zira says before he smiles at Crowley.

“Yeah, I’ll do my best,” Crowley chuckles, finally looking better, finally smiling.

Zira turns and starts to head out the door, nothing more really needing to be said between them. Before he’s reached the stairs though, he turns around once more, one last thought on his mind. He knows he has to say it now, has to get it out before he loses all nerve. “You know,” he starts, watching as Crowley’s eyes flick back to his. “I meant what I said earlier. You look so beautiful tonight.”

Crowley’s eyes widen and Zira watches a blush spread over their face even as he feels his own face heat up. Without another word, Zira slips away, heading down the stairs and back to the bar. It’s been a long night, but as he heads home - after nodding to Anathema as he passes - he realizes that even though it wasn’t the night he was expecting, he’s happy. He smiles to himself as he walks, already excited for the next time the two of them can talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm three chapters ahead with the writing right now and I'm getting to some stuff that is going to make me have to update the tags for this fic. I wanted to give you all a heads up now, in case you might have to back out or if you'll need help with those chapters. 
> 
> When I post them in the future, I'll be sure to add warnings before the chapters start. I also want to let you know that nothing graphic will happen to Zira or Crowley during this fic; everything is going to be stuff from their past and how they talk about it with each other. 
> 
> Please, don't hesitate to reach out, and I'll be updating the tags next week to reflect what should be written by then


	5. Chapter 5

As the weekend passes, Zira spends most of it looking up as much as he about people who are non-binary or gender neutral. He wants to understand as best as he can and he knows he shouldn’t leave it all to Crowley to explain to him. He even visits a bookshop in the area he knows specializes in LGBT literature, asking the seller for any recommendations.

When Monday rolls around, he still has questions that only Crowley can really answer, but he feels a lot more comfortable with the subject. As he works, his mind goes back to that night, that conversation, and he can’t stop thinking about the fear that was on Crowley’s face. The bartender was fully expecting Zira to completely disown him.

Zira can’t ever imagine disowning someone for their gender or sexuality, whether they’re just a friend or family. He’s not naive enough to think it doesn’t happen though and he can’t quite forget about that fear. HE sighs and decides that he never wants to be the cause of that fear if he can help it. He’s not perfect, but he can at least try his hardest. While he thinks about it, his phone buzzes, startling him out of his thoughts. Zira grabs it and feels a smile stretch across his face when he sees the name on the screen.

Anthony Crowley (11:30AM)

Hope you had a good rest of your weekend  
Thanks again for helping out

Me (11:31AM)

I had a very pleasant weekend and I was happy to help  
in any way I could. I hope you were able to rest after  
everything.

Anthony Crowley (11:35AM)

Didn’t really do much, Anathema got my shifts covered.  
Think she was worried about how people would react  
but I guess it was nice having some time off.

Anthony Crowley (11:37AM)

I’m glad you had a good weekend though

Me (11:37AM)

You as well!

Zira puts his phone down with a smile. Getting checked up on has given him a warm feeling that spreads throughout him and doesn’t go away, even when Gabriel peaks his head around the door frame. “Zira! Thank you for getting that report done for me on time,” he exclaims, voice loud as always. “Hope it didn’t keep you here too late. And is that a _smile_ I see on your face? Haven’t seen one that big in a long time!”

Gabriel’s words start to make the smile slip from Zira’s face, but he forces it back into place, mind flickering back to the messages that are only a few centimeters away from him. “Not sure I know what you mean, Gabriel,” he tells the other man, voice as strong as he can make it.

“Well, I mean sure you smile,” Gabriel replies while rolling his eyes. “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen one like that one your face. You seem... brighter? Did you meet someone?” As he speaks, Gabriel moves into the room and his voice takes on a teasing tone, as if he doesn’t really believe his own words and is just throwing out guesses. Zira still takes one second too long to answer though, and his phone buzzes at the exact wrong moment, which only causes Gabriel’s own smile to grow. “You did, didn’t you! Good for you Zira!”

The taller man takes the few steps needed to cross Zira’s office and Zira finds he wants to chuck his phone across the room before the other reaches it. Gabriel pays it no mind though and instead moves to clap Zira on the back, knocking Zira off balance even though he’s sitting. “Well, I’m happy for you Zira! Have to say, we were all starting to get worried for you though.”

Zira chuckles, wishing he could just disappear and escape this conversation. “Yes, well, we’re still just friends if you can even call it that. Haven’t really had time to talk all that much.”

“You’ve got each others numbers though, so you must be better friends than you think!” Gabriel points out, voice still so loud even in the small office space. Zira has to keep from flinching at every new sentence and wonders if he will ever really get used to the volume of Gabriel’s voice. Gabriel leans over Zira, face right next to Zira’s, and Zira only hopes he will tone it down now. “Can’t say I wasn’t starting to get worried you would never find someone. Especially considering everything that happened.”

Chills run down Zira’s spine and he feels frozen in place. The smile on his face, the semi-real one he has been wearing, is replaced by a painful one. Resisting the urge to pull away and run, Zira gives an empty chuckle. “Ah, yes, that...”

“I’m just glad you’re finally putting it behind you,” Gabriel says as he stands again. He moves back around to the front of Zira’s desk, not really looking at Zira. “Alright then, nice catching up with you! Let me know how things go, I have a pool to win depending on the circumstances!” With that, Gabriel walks out of the door, shutting it behind him with a click.

Zira doesn’t really see him leave, doesn’t take in the fact that he’s alone. Instead, he does everything he can to keep his gaze fixed on a spot on the wall opposite him. _As long as I just keep looking..._ Zira tries desperately to not float away, tries to get his breathing back under control, imagines those golden eyes in front of him.

_He won’t want you. No one will, not when they learn the truth, see just how broken you really are._

Zira’s shaking. He can feel it, but he can’t make it stop. It’s taking everything he has to keep staring at the wall, keep his gaze trained there. Feel the chair, the desk, your own breathing. _Stay rooted, stay here, stay-_

Memories push at him and he shoves them down as he finally gets his breathing back under control. It takes everything he has, but it comes back to him, the shakes dissipating as it does. Zira sighs, finally letting his eyes flutter shut as he leans his head forward. Both hands come up and he cradles his head with them, running his fingers through the white curls. _Broken, broken, brok-_

His phone buzzes once again, startling him. Zira glances over at it, but can’t quite bring himself to reach for it. He can feel the bone deep exhaustion setting in and knows that reaching for the phone isn’t going to help him right now. Pretending... letting himself believe he deserves this again... Zira shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as he takes a deep, shuddering breath. He gives himself a few moments before he straightens back up again, forcing his thoughts back to the report in front of him._ I will not break here, not again. I won’t give them that..._ he thinks over and over, the mantra coming to him easily as he works.

He doesn’t give another thought to his phone for the rest of his work day. No one else comes in to bother him. He doesn’t even think about the bet about his love life Gabriel oh so casually mentioned. Zira only has room right now for the task in front of him. Doesn’t have room to process anything else, so he pretends it isn’t there. Shoves it aside until he has room again, whenever that may be.

⁂

When Zira finally makes it back to his flat, he tosses everything in his hands to the floor by the door, not bothering to put any of it away. He starts to take off his coat, tie, and jacket, leaving them on a chair by the door, his mind somewhere else while he does the tasks. The ride home passed by in a blur and Zira finds he doesn’t really remember any of it other than shoving memories away as he stared out of the window. Being back home though, back where there aren’t any distractions for him, those memories push even harder and Zira feels himself falling to them.

With a sigh, Zira makes his way through the flat until he reaches the couch and he flops down onto it. After a minute or so passes, Zira remembers the phone in his pocket and he pulls it out to see the notifications for unread messages still flashing at him._ He won’t won’t won’t-_ Zira opens his phone with another sigh, knowing he isn’t in a good enough head space for this, but not reading them isn’t any better. Ghosting someone after just becoming friends with them wouldn’t be a good look and that’s the thought that finally gets him to open the texts.

Anthony Crowley (11:45AM)

Thanks again for giving me your number  
That meant a lot to me.

Anthony Crowley (12:00PM)

Can’t wait see you again, hope you have a  
good day at work.

Zira’s heart clenches in his chest, aching as he reads those two simple messages over and over again. They seem so full of kindness, of happiness, and Zira finds he doesn’t know what to do with it. _Don’t deserve it, don’t deserve him. What will he say when he finds out._

Me (5:15PM)

I’m happy you gave me your number as well  
and I hope you enjoyed your day.

Closing his eyes, Zira puts the phone down next to him on the couch. If Crowley answers, he can’t tell. The vibrations from his ringer would be cushioned by the couch itself and Zira doesn’t pick it back up again to check. Instead, he sinks more into the couch, resting his head in the crook of his arm as he pulls his legs up to curl up on the old material that’s worn with age. There’s a blanket he could use to wrap around himself, but he never thinks to reach for it as he finally stops trying to push his thoughts away. He no longer has the energy for it anymore and now that he’s home, no one will be able to tell if he has a break down.

It doesn’t take long for the tears to come.

When Zira opens his eyes again, soft light is filtering in through his windows, letting Zira know it’s almost sunrise. He knows this should bother him, but all he can register is how tired he is. The kind of bone deep tired that won’t let you move, no matter how hard you try to. Zira knows once he does move, it’s not going to feel good after sleeping for so long in this position on the couch, and that only makes him want to stay where he is even more.

Zira knows he has to face the day eventually though, much as he doesn’t want to. He’s past the days of laying in bed and letting the world pass by him. He has days when he wants to go back to that mindset, but he’s learned that nothing is going to change. So when the light grows even brighter outside, Zira hauls himself to his feet and heads to his bedroom where he strips off his clothes from the day before, letting them land in a pile by the foot of his bed.

He slowly pads over to his bathroom and turns on the shower, giving the water a chance to warm up before he climbs in. He feels his shoulders relax in spite of themselves as the water pounds against his back. He knows it’s going to be yet another long day full of keeping himself together and he just hopes he can without anyone else at work making it harder for him. Without a doubt, Gabriel would have spread word around the office, the real question is, who else is going to bring it up to him...

The small amount of hope Zira allowed himself though is instantly regretted when he gets to his office and sees Michael standing by his door, waiting for him. Zira sighs and presses on, nodding at the figure that stands up straighter, putting their phone back in their pocket when they see him. “Hello, Michael,” Zira simply says when he reaches them.

“Zira,” Michael replies, tilting their head in greeting. “Gabriel told me something interesting yesterday.”

“Oh, did he?” Zira responds mindlessly as he unlocks his door and pushes it open. He allows Michael to go in first before he follows them, setting his bag down so he can hang up his coat. “I’m not sure there’s really anything interesting going on in my life right now.”

Michael waits for Zira to move over to his desk, only taking a seat once Zira does. Zira’s mind flicks back to what it was like when he first met Michael, when they were away from Gabriel, and Zira is reminded of how different Michael can be without the other shadowing them. He feels himself relax slightly as he remembers this, sure this isn’t going to turn into a weird interrogation like it would if Gabriel was here.

Michael gives Zira a soft smile. “Does this person make you happy, Zira?” they ask softly after a long pause.

Zira looks away for a moment, mind flying back to his interactions with Crowley. “He does,” Zira finally says, voice equally soft. “I feel like I can relax around him. Be myself.”

Michael hums and Zira looks back at them. The face in front of him is unreadable, but Zira tries not to think too hard about it. “Office jokes aside, Zira, that’s all we really want for you. Truly.” Michael tells him and Zira can hear the sincerity in their voice even as Gabriel’s words from yesterday ring in his head. He can’t help but wonder how much of what Michael is saying is actually true...

“I appreciate that, Michael,” he hears himself saying.

Michael doesn’t end up staying for much longer after that and while they are there, the conversation turns to work topics anyways. Once Zira is alone again, he feels a weight lift from his chest and releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding onto. Glancing at his computer, Zira quickly pulls up the work he needs and let’s himself sink into it, even as everything starts to swirl around his mind. He can feel the web tangling, but for now, he knows he can’t stop it, can’t separate it all out, and only wonders how much longer he can stay trapped in the middle of it.

Hours later, Zira hears laughing outside of his office door and he freezes, hands shaking over his keyboard. He knows by the sound alone that Gabriel is one of the voices and he finds himself wishing there was a way to disappear. It’s only a matter of moments before someone opens his door and forces him to become a part of whatever conversation is taking place. Zira braces himself, putting on his smile just as the door opens and a group of people walk in lead by Gabriel with his too wide smile on his face.

When Zira finally manages to get them all to leave him alone, he feels completely drained and leans against the door. He barely has enough energy to stay standing. The jokes and the demands to know who Zira may or may not be seeing repeat in Zira’s head and he only grows more tired as they do. With a heavy sigh, Zira makes his way back over to his desk - after locking the door - and sits back down in his chair, leaning forward in it enough to put his head down on the table top. _They don’t really care about you, you’re just a joke to them, just a funny story to them, just-_

Zira closes his eyes. He doesn’t have the energy to keep anything away anymore and finds it so much easier to let himself sink into it instead of fighting it off. It’s passed time for Zira to head home, his bus having left long ago without him, but Zira can’t pull himself up, can’t find the energy to even care that he should be going home right now... _They just want to watch you fail, want to turn you into another joke, just another story to spread around-_

_Why am I crying?_

_Why is my phone buzzing..._

_Why won’t it stop?_

With a groan, Zira picks his head back up, pulling his phone over to him, if only to stop it from continuing to buzz at him. He glances at it, barely registering the amount of messages that blink back at him. Scrolling through them, Zira quickly realizes that they are all from Crowley, but even that isn’t enough to perk him up. Still, he opens them anyways and reads through them all:

Anthony Crowley (6:30PM)

My day is going good so far. Great part about  
being a bartender; my days always start later in  
the day

Anthony Crowley (6:45PM)

Probably going to be a long night though  
Anathema is still on my ass about what happened  
over the weekend, so it could be interesting.

Anthony Crowley (8:00PM)

Anyways, hope you have a good night!

Anthony Crowley (4:30PM)

Listen, I know we haven’t known each other  
long and I hope I’m not being overbearing  
or anything but, well, I’m just wondering if  
you’re alright..?

Anthony Crowley (4:31PM)

I dunno...

Anthony Crowley (4:31PM)

I guess I’m just worried, if that’s alright.

Anthony Crowley (4:32PM)

Just...let me know, ok?

Zira sighs._ Should answer, shouldn’t ghost him, don’t be that type of person..._ He knows that won’t get him anywhere, will only make the other worry more. Even if he isn’t entirely convinced he is even worth being worried about. Still, he has no idea what he should even say, if it really even matters at this point... He sits up enough to get a better grip on the phone and types out a simple message, one he hopes will reassure the other without drawing anymore attention his way.

Me (4:45PM)

I’m fine, Crowley. My apologies for making  
you worry.

Once it’s sent, Zira turns his phone face down, putting his head back down next to it. He’s still not ready to leave for home, even though he definitely should. Just doesn’t have the energy for it and doesn’t know when he will at this point. Nothing is grounding him anymore and he feels himself start to slip away, echoes of the past overpowering him once more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Loving all of the comments


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bonus chapter!! 
> 
> I just felt like uploading this early because I really like this chapter. I hope you all like it too!
> 
> Also, you have all been such an engaging audience and I really appreciate all of the comments I am always getting on this story. It has really helped make my days and has been such a big help pushing me with writing, so thank you! This isn't a terribly long chapter, but it still has plenty of good stuffs in it!

A truck blares its horn, causing Zira to jump as he moves out of the way. It flies past him as he stumbles onto the sidewalk. Dazedly, Zira looks around, blinking hard as he forces his brain to take in what’s around him. The city, he’s out in the city with traffic rushing past him. It’s dark out and Zira can see his breath coming out in puffs in front of him. Shivers course through him as soon as his mind latches onto that, forcing a sudden realization of how cold it is onto him.

Zira looks down at himself and understanding dawns: he doesn’t have his jacket or coat on. He looks around again, puffs of air coming faster as he feels the panic set in once more. _How did I even get here? Where even is here?_

He can’t make sense of anything, can’t remember getting here in the first place. The last thing he remembers is texting Crowley at the office and then...

“Crowley, I can just call Crowley,” he tells himself, hoping something familiar like the sound of his own voice will help him. “He knows the city well, or at l-least he seems like s-someone that would...”

As Zira babbles to himself, he fishes in his pocket for his phone and pulls it out. Without even looking at the home screen, Zira quickly thumbs his way past a handful of other screens until he’s hit the green button, raising the device up to his ear once he does. The ringing he hears is almost drowned out by the sounds of traffic racing by and Zira shuts his eyes, at a complete loss as to what he should do...

The line only rings a handful of times before it stops and there’s soon a warm voice on the other end. “Zira?” Crowley asks in greeting and Zira can hear the confusion that’s already there. “Is everything alright?”

Zira has to take a deep, shaky breath before he can even try to speak. “C-C-Crowley,” he chokes out, but can’t manage to say anything else.

“It’s alright, I’m here,” Crowley replies instantly and Zira can hear the change in their voice. “We can keep it to short answers, ok? One or two words, can you do that for me?”

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he listens. “Yes,” Zira finally says, voice so small.

“Ok, good,” Crowley breathes out almost instantly. “First things first, are you safe?”

“Yes,” Zira hears himself respond.

“Good, that’s good Zira.” Some of the panic leaves Crowley’s voice at Zira’s answer. “Do you know where you are?”

At this, Zira looks around him once more, trying hard to place exactly where he is. Everything blurs together though, the buildings all looking like the ones next to them, nothing standing out. He feels his breathing start to speed up again as the realization that he has no clue where he is washes over him. “N-n-no,” he stutters out finally. “I-I-I don’t know, I-I-”

“Ok, it’s ok Zira,” Crowley replies, voice so calm. “You’re doing so good Zira, really. Take a deep breath for me. Can you do that?”

Zira tries, he really does. The simple words of praise wash over him and under different circumstances, Zira might have allowed himself to enjoy them. Right now though, it’s all he can do to not spiral again, to not float away. _Feel the ground, it’s right beneath your feet, feel the wall behind you, feel-_

“Zira, I want you to try something for me, ok?” Crowley cuts in and Zira tries so hard to listen, he really does. “I want you to look around and tell me if you see any signs or building names. Anything at all that could tell me where you are. Try for me.”

Once again, Zira looks around himself. Instead of finding something familiar, Zira tries to just focus on the actual buildings and their surroundings. After a few moments, he looks at the one right next to him and his eyes find the sign hanging above his head. “I think I-I found one,” he whispers over the line and reads off the name to the other.

“That’s great Zira,” Crowley tells him and Zira can hear a door slam in the background. “I’m going to stay on the phone with you, but I want you to stay right where you are, alright?”

Even though there’s no way for Crowley to see it, Zira nods as he replies with a strained yes. More noises come from the other end of the call, filling the silence that falls over them and Zira finds it the most grounding thing all night. Crowley starts talking to him again, but Zira is only half listening at this point. The words no longer make sense, but the sound of the red head’s voice is all Zira needs right now.

He almost jumps out of his skin when that voice comes from directly in front of him, his eyes flying open and instantly landing on bright golden ones. “Crowley,” he says.

Crowley reaches for him, stopping just short of actually touching his arm and Zira finds himself wishing the other hadn’t stopped. _It’s all over now, he’s going to learn just how fucked up you are, how broken you are. There’s no explaining-_ “You’re safe,” Crowley whispers and Zira watches his hand twitch.

_Ground yourself..._

Zira starts to take in as much as he can. Golden eyes, bright and shiny. Long red hair (_has it always been so long...?_) is pulled away from and angular face. Sunglasses resting on top of his head... Zira finally nods as he stops floating away and he watches as something in that face breaks. A shaky hand finally lands on his arm and Zira feels something in him break as well.

“Where did you want to go, Zira?” Crowley finally asks as people move past them on the sidewalk. “I’ll take you anywhere. Can go back to my place if you like.”

Zira raises his eyes, looking past Crowley. “I just want to go home...” Zira looks back into Crowley’s eyes and can see the understanding on the others face. _I just want to hide away... Don’t want you to see the real me... At least not yet..._

“Let’s get you home then, alright?” Crowley says as his grip tightens on Zira’s arm. “Car is just right over there.” Zira must nod because Crowley starts to lead him down the sidewalk to a sleek black vehicle. He opens a door for Zira and Zira climbs in, already feeling more stable.

Crowley slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car. “Where are we heading to?” he asks softly, looking over to Zira.

Zira starts, realizing he forgot that important piece of information. He apologizes quickly, not missing the look Crowley gives him. Rattling off an address, Zira looks down at his hands as the other types in the place into his phone. It doesn’t take much longer for the car to pull away and out into traffic.

After driving for a few minutes, Zira can tell Crowley wants to say something, can sense the tension coming from the one next to him. He doesn’t really know what to say though, so he picks his head up and turns to look out of the window. The only sounds in the car are the car engine itself purring and Crowley’s phone occasionally giving directions. Vaguely, Zira starts to notice everything is starting to look familiar and he knows they are close to his place. He blinks and the car is being parked. They’re right outside of his building and Zira finds he can’t move, doesn’t want to go inside, _don’t want to be alone..._

“Come inside with me?” Zira hears himself ask distantly. “I... I don’t know if I can be alone right now.”

Crowley doesn’t say anything, just reaches to turn the car off. They both slide out, the doors locking behind them, and Zira turns to lead them both inside once the red head is next to him. _He’s going to learn too much about you, see how broken you really are, then what are you going to do?_ Zira walks them through the building until he is standing in front of his door and unlocking it with his keys that were luckily in his trousers instead of his coat.

“It’s not much,” he explains as he flips on the light. Standing in the entrance, Zira finds himself looking around the place as if he’s seeing it for the first time. Books are stacked everywhere, a jumbled mess that makes sense to no one other than him. Worn furniture is scattered around a fireplace with a coffee table in the middle. The low lighting of the place gives it a homey feel even as Zira starts to feel completely out of place.

“Zira?” Crowley says, pulling him back to himself as he turns to look into sunglasses covered eyes. “Why don’t you go sit and I can make us some tea, ok?”

Zira nods, suddenly grateful to be told what to do instead of just stuck wondering. He finds his way to the couch and settles into it as he listens to the sounds of Crowley moving around his small kitchen. He loses track of time again, the kettle whistling bringing him back once more. It isn’t long before Crowley is standing in front of him, holding out a mug that Zira takes, if only to have something to hold on to. He watches Crowley place their own on the table before sitting down in one of the armchairs.

_Won’t even sit next to you, can probably sense just how broken you are_

“Can you tell me what happened?” Crowley asks gently as he removes his glasses. “Or at least, how you ended up there with no recollection of getting there?”

Zira’s eyes trail over Crowley’s face as he thinks back. He clutches the mug tighter, not letting himself slip away entirely. “I was... at work,” Zira mumbles as he tries to piece it altogether. “That was when I texted you...”

“That’s good, Zira,” Crowley says when Zira pauses. “Do you know what happened next?”

Zira swallows and his eyes flicker, moving down to look at the mug in his hand. Some part of him registers the subtle smell of lavender wafting up from it. “It was past time for me to go home... I missed my usual bus and didn’t really want to get up just yet, so I put my head down for a bit... The next thing I know, I’m where you found me...”

He can feel Crowley’s gaze on him and wishes the other would stop starring. _Stop before you see all of the cracks, the glue, the missing pieces..._

“Zira, can I ask... Are these black outs normal? Is it something that happens often?”

Simple questions... Such simple questions, but they’re enough to make Zira flinch. He can feel everything in him tighten as he hands start to shake. “Well, I-I... they...”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Crowley is saying as he moves slowly towards Zira. He grabs the mug first, giving Zira his empty hand in its place. “You don’t have to tell me anything you aren’t comfortable with. I promise, I’m only trying to help.”

Zira watches as the mug is set down, but that hand doesn’t leave his and his own hold tightens on it, just enough to keep from floating away. After a moment, he takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he tries to relax. “They, um...” he starts again, pushing through while he still can. “They happen more often than I would like... Have for a few years now...”

He can tell Crowley is waiting to make sure he’s done talking and something in him warms even as his hands continue to shake. “Thank you for telling me, Zira,” Crowley eventually says with a soft smile on his lips. “I really do appreciate it.”

Zira doesn’t really know what to say after that, doesn’t really know how to explain them since he’s never really understood them in the first place. He can only watch as both of Crowley’s hands reach for his now, holding them both tightly and stopping the shaking as much as he can. “I’m... I’m afraid I-I don’t really know m-much about them...” Taking a deep breath, Zira keeps his eyes trained on those hands in front of him. He can’t stop from tracing the thin fingers with watery eyes.

“You don’t have to explain anymore, Zira,” Crowley whispers after a moment. “Not if you don’t want to.”

And that, that right there... The choice to keep going or not... _Laying it out in front of me like that, giving me the option..._ Zira tries to blink back the tears, he really does, but before he knows it, there are drops landing on their clasped hands and he finds he can’t stop them. It’s all too much, really, to not know, and to have someone here in front of him _giving him options_ like it’s the easiest thing in the world...

“Oh, Zira...” he hears Crowley say distantly and before he can really register what is happening, those long, thin fingers are pulling away from his own stubby ones. He tries to cling to them, if only because he can’t seem to make himself let go, but they disappear anyways. He doesn’t have long to feel their loss though; before he can really even understand what’s happened, the couch dips next to him and there are arms wrapping around him. “It’s going to be alright, Zira.”

For the first time in a long time, Zira wants so badly to believe that. His tears fall more freely as he is pulled closer to Crowley and his head falls against Crowley’s chest. His hand shakes as he tentatively wraps his own arm around the others middle and he chokes back a sob when the arms holding him tighten at his actions. Zira hesitates to allow himself to actually relax into Crowley’s hold; can feel everything in him warring against himself, fighting the urge to pull away even as he wants so badly to press into Crowley’s hold.

Before he can figure out what to do, he feels himself jump at the feeling of fingers threading through his hair. Zira’s eyes open wide, staring down at the space between them, as his mind tries to process those thin fingers running through his hair. His breath catches and his mind suddenly wars with itself as part of it wants to press into those fingers and the other wants to pull away. _Broken... broken... bro-_

“I’m sorry I pushed you, Zira,” Crowley whispers and Zira feels another sob threaten to break loose. “I’m sorry if I’m still pushing you. It’s just...you...”

Zira can feel the shakes set in as Crowley stumbles over his words and he wonders what on earth the other has to be sorry about. “I’m the one th-that’s a m-mess,” he hears himself saying through his tears.

Crowley’s arms only tighten their hold on him and Zira finds himself wishing he could look into those eyes. He’s not sure how long they end up on the like that, how long Zira stays wrapped up in Crowley’s arms. Crowley continues stroking Zira’s hair, his other hand splayed on Zira’s back. Soft words fall from the red head’s lips and Zira finds he is quickly lulled by them, his tears finally fading away as he listens. When they eventually pull away from each other, even then, they don’t really let go.

The hand in his hair moves to Zira’s free hand while he moves his own hand from around Crowley to rest on the others knee, not bothering to wonder if he’s going to far or not right now. Crowley doesn’t pull away from him, so Zira allows himself this much, lets just enough of his true feelings shine through, even as he feels himself collapsing. Neither of them says anything for a long time; it’s not until Zira takes a deep breath and finally looks up into those golden eyes. He immediately latches on to how full they are of concern and worry and...

“I was made aware of a... joke, going around work a couple of days ago,” Zira starts, explaining the parts he does remember. “One that was being made about my... personal life and how it may include a bet. Not that I was entirely concerned with it. I’m pretty used to it by now...” Zira’s eyes trail away as his words do, unable to hold everything being sent his way.

“Jesus...” Crowley whispers and Zira can hear the anger hiding behind that simple word. “That’s...”

“I know, but really...” Zira says before pushing on. He takes a deep breath again. “It was what was said after that, I think, that set me off this time. A... a joke, an off handed comment... about my past and how I needed help being put back together after certain... events. A joke about how it’s _nice_ I m-might be m-moving on after something from my past.”

“Zira...” Crowley murmurs as he squeezes the hand he is holding.

“I know I got home alright that night, but everything after that comes in flashes, until I called you,” Zira finishes, not really sure he can explain any more.

Crowley seems to recognize this though and closes his eyes. “I am so sorry, Zira,” he finally says after a long pause and Zira closes his own eyes as he leans back into the couch once more. “I don’t even know... fuck.”

Zira feels a chuckle leave him, albeit a broken one. “Thank you for coming to get me,” Zira whispers into the quiet that follows. “I’m not sure what I would have done without you today.”

Crowley doesn’t answer, just strokes his thumb over the back of Zira’s hand. They fall into a silence, one that Zira tries to pick himself back together in while he feels the warmth of the man next to him soak in. The tea mugs go forgotten about, the fact that Crowley should probably be at work isn’t mentioned, and the late hour goes unnoticed. In the end, the silence is only broken by a yawn that passes between the two of them, followed by more soft chuckles.

“I should probably get going,” Crowley says after a moment.

Zira nods, knowing that the other is probably right. It’s been a long night and as they sit here, he can feel all of the emotional tolls he has had tonight weighing on him. Neither of them end up moving however, except for Zira letting his own thumb stroke over those skin tight jeans he has his hand resting on. When another yawn pushes to the surface, he finds he can’t hold it back.

“You should go get some rest, Zira,” Crowley whispers, staring into Zira’s eyes.

Even as tired as he feels, Zira can’t help but notice the warm feeling blossoming in his chest as he stares back. In that moment, he doesn’t think he will ever get used to those golden eyes, but he knows he wants to see them as often as possible. He’s getting lost in them and there’s no coming back from this... As the warmth spreads, a vein of fear starts to race with it and Zira can feel the panic rising as it does.

Crowley continues to stare at him and Zira can see the look change. It’s just a small change, but it’s all Zira needs to know what is going on behind those eyes. Before Crowley has a chance to move very much, words fall from Zira’s mouth, one he barely even registers himself saying. “You go too fast for me, Crowley...”

_You actual idiot..._

Crowley only blinks and Zira can see him pulling back and closing himself off once again. “I should go.” Crowley’s voice is different, his words more definitive. His hand pulls away next and Zira has to fight the urge to reach for it again, to explain what he really means...

_I can’t right now, not after everything that’s happened today..._

Zira watches as Crowley slips his glasses back on, pulling them from the table when he stands. He wants to follow Crowley, wants to chase after him and ask for another chance. The red head only grabs the mugs full of cold tea, carrying them back to the kitchen before he comes back to Zira, looking at him from behind those mirrored lenses.

_Please don’t hate me, I just need time..._

Zira watches as Crowley’s hand twitches, moving towards Zira’s hand once again, but it falls back to his side before it goes too far. A look crosses their face, one Zira knows he would be able to read if those glasses weren’t in the way. Zira moves to open his mouth, but Crowley beats him to it. “It’s ok, I shouldn’t have... You’ve been through a lot tonight, Zira.”

A soft smile spreads on Crowley’s face and Zira wonders if it reaches those eyes. “I just need time, Anthony,” Zira whispers, giving voice to the thoughts in his head for once.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Crowley replies, relaxing again. This time when his hand moves, it doesn’t stop until it is running through Zira’s hair, ever so gently. Zira has to fight to not melt into the touch, not after what he just told Crowley, but he still lets it bring back some of the warmth in his chest anyways. “You know where to find me, Zira. And you have my number. I’ll always come when you call.”

Zira doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t. Crowley pulls away after a moment, and Zira watches him go. Even once the door is closed, he finds he can’t look away, staring into the space that Crowley filled only moments ago, wishing there was some way to make the other stay.

_It’s for the best... At least, for right now..._

Sighing, Zira pulls himself from the couch and looks towards the kitchen. He vaguely thinks about cleaning up the tea, knowing putting it off isn’t going to help him any, but another wave of exhaustion washes over him. “I’ll take care of them in the morning,” he mumbles before shuffling off to bed.

If thoughts of a certain red head dance through his mind as he dreams, Zira won’t complain.


	7. Chapter 7

When Friday rolls around a couple of days later, Zira debates whether or not he should go to the bar after everything that happened. Crowley might have left with a small smile that night, but Zira knows he fucked up. They haven’t really spoken much since, except for a handful of texts the next morning. While he sits at work, trying his best to look busy so no one will come and bother him, Zira’s mind spins. _He probably hates me... Can’t believe I said something so stupid..._

Sighing, Zira runs his hand through his hair and tries to push the thoughts away, at least, just for now. He has to get through his work and he knows that stressing about what he said isn’t going to make his day go by any easier. He just hopes that a certain coworker of his will stay away; he’s gotten through enough this week without seeing them anyways...

As his work day comes to a close, Zira notices his phone buzz as he is packing everything up. Glancing at it, Zira feels his heart start to beat harder as he notices the name that shows up on the screen. He takes a deep breath, continuing to pack as he tries to keep himself from opening the text; he doesn’t know if he can handle what might be in that message. When his phone buzzes again, Zira sets everything down and reaches for his phone. He takes another deep breath before opening it and scrolling to his unread messages.

Anthony Crowley (3:55 PM)  
Hey, I just wanted...

Anthony Crowley (3:59 PM)  
I hope I see you tonight.

Zira pauses, phone hovering in front of him as he reads the two simple messages over and over. He puts it back down without replying and finishes packing and sorting his reports faster than he normally does, racing outside to catch the bus. It’s not until he’s halfway to the bar that he realizes he’s entirely too early and he stops in his tacks. Without much thought, he starts walking again, not even looking at the bar when he goes past. His feet carry him around a few familiar corner, leading him back to the cafe from so many nights ago.

This time, Zira feels more prepared when he walks up to the counter, where he asks for a tea list. He scans it slowly, picking out one after a few moments along with a flaky pastry to go along with it. Once he receives his tea, he quickly settles at the same table he and Crowley sat at that night, his mind traveling to back then as he sips his beverage. It might have been a rough start to their friendship, but it’s definitely a night that Zira will always remember, especially considering how kind Crowley was.

_And I went and fucked it all up..._

Zira sighs, knowing that there is more going on in the background that Crowley doesn’t know about yet, but he just doesn’t know if he’s really ready to share any of that yet. It’s been quite a few years since it even happened at all and Zira still has a hard time even admitting it to himself, let alone to another person... So he hasn’t. _Not that that’s healthy in any way... but why would anyone want to talk about..._

Taking another sip of his tea, Zira does his best to change the path of his thoughts, not really needing (or wanting) to go down that path tonight. Instead, he turns his thoughts to how he can explain to Crowley what he actually meant with what he said._ It’s not that I don’t possibly like him,_ Zira muses as his warmed pastry finally arrives. _The timing was just... terrible..._

Zira nods to himself as he pieces things together. In his mind, making a move on someone you’ve only had a real conversation with a handful of times is fast. Especially after you had to pick that person up from some random location they don’t even remember going to. _Should be normal to think that it’s going too fast,_ Zira decides. Now if only he could explain that to Crowley without bringing up too much of his past while doing so.

A part of him knows Crowley would listen to his story and still be there by his side once it was all over. There’s another part, however, that’s harder for him to ignore, no matter how much tea and glimpses of golden eyes he tries to drown out that side in. He’s still not entirely certain he has his own back as far as the story goes, only really having come to grips with the truth within the last year or so. Not that it’s done much good for him.

He’s still haunted by his past. Every day.

It’s not long after this that Zira finishes his tea and pastry and a quick glance at his phone tells him that it’s a more acceptable time to be at the bar. With a small smile towards the few people working in the cafe at this time of day, Zira slips out and makes his way back to the bar. The sidewalks are more crowded now as the night life of SoHo emerges, but Zira finds he doesn’t really mind as he moves through the colorful sea. He pulls his coat closer around himself to block out the colder air, but he manages to keep his head up and flashes a few smiles whenever one is aimed his way.

After a short trip, Zira’s standing in front of that brick building, hand raised to push his way through the door, but before he can, he stops. The nerves set in even further and Zira finds that he is frozen in place. He realizes that he is worried about what is going to happen, what Crowley might say or do._ This whole thing could just be a front, could just be him pretending... There’s no way he isn’t upset with you after that..._

Sighing, Zira knows he has to go in. What kind of person would he be if he just left now... Squaring his shoulders, Zira finally pushes open the door and walks through. He isn’t sure what he expected to find, but he’s completely lost when nothing happens. He stands in the doorway for a moment longer than he probably should have as he looks around, but when nothing is out of the ordinary, Zira finally moves. He keeps his head down as he makes his way to the bar and quickly slides into his seat that always seems to be empty.

When Zira manages to look up again, it’s to find a pair of warm, golden eyes staring at him. Zira gives him a very small smile, not quite sure how the other will react to him being there. He isn’t sure how long they stay like that before Crowley finally says something. “I see you got my messages then,” he states simply, finally letting another small smile grow on his own face.

“Yes, I did,” Zira replies as he ducks his head down. “Wasn’t sure how to respond, so I...”

“But you did,” Crowley continues when Zira doesn’t. “By showing up here. I wasn’t sure if you would come.”

“To be honest,” Zira starts, pulling his gaze back up. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to come either.”

At this, Crowley only nods before pulling his glasses back down to cover his eyes. Zira doesn’t miss the wince that goes across his face, but he can’t bring himself to say anything about it. Before either of them can say much more, Crowley slides a beer across the bar top before moving on to help someone else. The usual saunter in his step doesn’t do anything to hid the limp on his left leg.

Zira tries not to dwell on these things. He knows Crowley wouldn’t be here if he didn’t think he could do it, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a small bit worried. As the night passes, Zira notices that Crowley’s limp only grows worse. He continues to not say anything. They don’t say much in general to each other, only giving each other glances whenever Crowley walks past, and Zira starts to wonder if he really does belong here after all.

_He’s mad at you..._

_He’s working._

_He normally at least tries to talk to you..._

_He’s busy._

_The bar isn’t even busy tonight..._

_I don’t even deserve it._

Zira goes to finish his beer before realizing that it’s been refilled for him and he looks up, looking at his own face. Crowley quirks an eyebrow at him before limping off once more, sunglasses still fixed firmly in place. Lifting the new beer, Zira takes a sip just as the back room door opens and Anathema walks out. She takes one look at Crowley and Zira watches as her face changes. She scans the bar, her eyes landing on Zira and she moves over to him after a beat.

“How is he doing?” she asks without any other greeting.

Zira can’t hold back the grimace that coves over his face. “Getting worse, if I’m being completely honest.”

Anathema sighs. “It’s supposed to storm and get colder tonight, apparently. He’s only going to get worse still and he won’t listen to me.”

Zira gives her a questioning look. “Is that why his eyes are giving him more issues as well?”

She nods as he looks back over to him again. “When the weather turns, he gets migraines and his joints start to bother him more than normal, especially when it gets cold. I tried to tell him it was alright to stay home tonight, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

Zira looks down at his beer._ You’re the reason he’s pushing himself today. This is on you._ Anathema doesn’t say anything else and Zira finds he doesn’t know what to say either, so they both end up watching the slim figure as he continues to move back and forth. When the red head turns around to head back down to Zira’s end of the bar, he pulls up short at the sight of both of them, Zira drops his eyes quickly, but not before he sees a scowl appear on Crowley’s face. He catches Anathema squaring up out of the corner of his eyes as he feels Crowley move closer. Neither of them say a word, at first.

When the silence stretches on, Zira finally lifts his head just in time to see a defeated look cross Crowley’s face. “Oh, my dear,” Zira starts, but a shake of Anathema’s head is all he needs to stop himself.

He can only watch as Crowley pulls his glasses off, holding them in one hand as he rubs his eyes with the other. Zira can see he wants so badly to push through, but he can see that even just standing here is becoming a struggle. He and Anathema wait, giving Crowley enough time to make his own decision. When he pulls his hand away from his face, his eyes are red rimmed and he’s no longer masking the pain and exhaustion. As soon as he nods, Zira is out of his seat and already halfway to the end of the bar before anyone can say anything further.

“There’s a couch in back, or you can go upstairs if you want,” Anathema tells them both as Crowley limps over to Zira. “Please get some rest, ok?” Her voice softens as she reaches out and lays a gentle hand on Crowley, but she doesn’t keep it there long.

Zira holds his own arm out to Crowley when the taller man reaches his side and finds he's surprised when Crowley actually takes it. They make their way through the door and Zira waits at the foot of the stairs, raising an eyebrow in a silent question to Crowley. The red head sighs and starts to move towards the stairs. A hiss escapes him as soon as he climbs the first step and Zira instantly knows this is going to be a long climb.

Zira moves to the other man’s side once more, this time wrapping his arm around Crowley’s back. The soft silky shirt and rough jeans shift under his fingers as Crowley leans into the support and Zira breathes a small sigh of relief when Crowley’s arm drapes over his shoulders. “Together,” Zira whispers.

Even with Zira’s help, it takes them a considerable amount of time to climb the flight of stairs. They’re only a few from the top when Crowley stops them, pulling away from Zira slightly so he can lean against the wall instead. Zira can feel the tremors running through the man as he rubs his hand over Crowley’s back. He find himself murmuring to Crowley as they both stand there, waiting. When he’s caught his breath some, Crowley picks his head back up and looks towards the door at the top.

“Lot bloody harder than I was thinking,” he pants out, moving back into Zira’s hold.

“Almost there, my dear,” Zira says in the softest voice and finds himself silently wondering (again) when calling Crowley by that nickname became so easy.

The last few steps are the hardest yet. He might have taken a small break to catch his breath, but Zira can tell it didn’t really do much to help Crowley. Zira can only hold on tighter as his friend leans heavily on him, the last few steps taking everything out of him.

When they finally reach the top, Zira is supporting almost all of Crowley’s weight. He can only watch and hang on as Crowley braces himself against the wall with his free arm, swaying, and Zira wishes he could do something more. His heart clenches in his chest at the pained look that has taken over the others face and he briefly wonders what it means. Zira doesn’t have long to think about it though; Crowley pushes away from the wall and starts to step out of Zira’s grasp at the same moment. When he stumbles almost instantly though, Zira quickly retakes his place.

“Just for a little while longer, I think,” he whispers. “Let’s get you inside first, alright?”

“Ngk,” Crowley grunts out and it’s all the confirmation Zira gets.

The pair make their way through the door Crowley opens and continue their strange walk until they reach the couch. Zira wonders if there’s a bed somewhere (that isn’t Anathema’s) that Crowley would be more comfortable on, but he doesn’t honestly think Crowley will even make it that far anymore. He helps position his friend next to the couch, moving so he’s standing in front of him so he can give Crowley all of the support he can. He doesn’t let go until after Crowley has slowly lowered himself to sit on the couch, hissing the whole way. Zira can’t help but notice he leaves his left leg stretched out in front of him, doing everything he can to not bend his knee.

Once Crowley is down, Zira slips his hands away, wringing them together when they no longer have anything else to hang onto, and he rocks his weight from foot to foot, not sure what else he can do. Crowley leans forward, rubbing at his out stretched leg, still softly hissing occasionally. Unable to watch and not know how to help for any longer, Zira finally looks over to the kitchen and a thought flits across his mind.

“Tea, I’ll make...” he mumbles before slipping away, not even sure if Crowley heard him or not. Zira has a momentary feeling of unease go through him as he starts to search through someone’s cupboards, but the feeling disappears when he finds a tea box and settles into a familiar pattern.

Once the kettle has boiled and mugs have been poured (one with just a bit of milk and sugar), Zira heads back over to the couch area. The tension in his chest lets up a little when he sees that Crowley has relaxed a small bit; he’s no longer curled in on himself and is instead resting against the back of the plush cushions. His face is still contorted in pain, but Zira can see a bit of relief there as well, and can tell Crowley is breathing easier.

“I made tea,” he announces softly, not really sure if Crowley will even care. He goes to set the mugs on the table, but a hand reaching for him makes him pause. He watches the hand move past the mugs and land instead on his arm, a gently pressure soon following that guides him down onto the couch next to Crowley.

“Thanksss,” the man hisses as he finally takes the mug offered to him, still not really looking at Zira. At least, not that Zira can tell.

Zira watches as the red head takes a sip of his tea and moves to do the same with his own, letting the warm liquid work it’s magic. More of the tension in him melts away as the warmth spreads through him and when he looks back at Crowley, he can tell a similar effect is being had.

“Better?” Zira hears himself ask, though he isn’t sure why.

“Will be,” Crowley replies, softly before taking another sip. When he clears his throat, Zira tilts his head a bit and waits. “I know you’ve jussst sat down, but... Anathema keepsss a bottle of my pain killersss down the hall...”

Zira has his mug down on the table and pulls himself up again before Crowley can really finish talking. He heads towards the bathroom after clarifying and finds the orange bottle right where Crowley said it should be. He brings it back to the room and hands it over, watching as Crowley opens it after a few tries and pulls out two, swallowing them with a sip of tea quickly. Crowley leans back with a sigh as Zira sits back down, moving the bottle next to his own tea mug. A soft quiet settles over them before Crowley shifts, moving his leg a bit.

“Would you like to lie down?” Zira asks. “I can move, it’s no bother.”

Crowley shakes his head before Zira can get up again, turning to face him. “Stay, please,” Crowley says and Zira can hear what’s hiding beneath those small words.

A part of him still wants to move though so Crowley can stretch out on the couch, and an idea comes to him as he stares at the man next to him. He glances at the couch again, taking in the length of the whole thing before he gets up and removes his coat. Even while covered by glasses, Zira can feel eyes on him, watching his every move as he rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and reaches for one of the pillows on the chair next to him. Arranging it just so against the arm of the couch, Zira looks back at Crowley and gives him a small smile. He settles back down on the couch, slips his shoes off, and turns so he is ready to lean against the pillows.

“Trust me?” he asks, holding his arms out.

Crowley raises an eye brow, but only nods. Zira reaches out a hand, landing on Crowley’s shoulder, and gently helps to maneuver the worn out bartender until his back is leaning against Zira’s chest. It takes them a bit of time to get Crowley’s left leg up onto the couch, moving as slowly as possible. Every twitch has Zira catching his breath, but Crowley shows no signs of more pain being inflicted and Zira breathes a little easier once they are completely settled.

“Better?” Zira asks as he pulls Crowley closer, hoping the red head will relax some.

Crowley tenses a bit, and Zira knows this can’t be easy after what happened. “Not too fassst?” Crowley hisses out.

Zira sighs, even though he doesn’t hear any malice in Crowley’s words. Without a real thought leading him to do it, Zira wraps his arms around Crowley’s chest, holding him gently. “Alright, I deserved that one,” he mumbles, continuing before Crowley can respond. “I wanted to explain what I meant by that, if you’ll allow me.”

Crowley takes a deep breath, his chest expanding under Zira’s arms and he nods carefully. As Crowley releases his breath, Zira watches as he moves to take off his glasses finally, folding them up and placing them on the back of the couch. It doesn’t slip Zira’s notice that they are still within reach, but he doesn’t think about it for long as he is distracted by Crowley’s head finally relaxing back against his shoulder. “I’m all ears,” Crowley whispers. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to though, just so we’re clear.”

Zira has to take a moment after that as his chest warms to words he isn’t used to hearing directed at him. “When I said what I said the other day, there was a lot going on in my mind,” Zira starts. “I never meant to imply... what came across. I only meant that after everything that happened, your offer, while appreciated, was just a bit too much for where I was at.”

Crowley nods against him. “I kind of thought that might have been the case, once I though about it at all...”

Zira pushes on when Crowley doesn’t continue and he hopes these next parts make some sense. “When I... black out like that, I lose all sense of everything. It takes me a long time to come back to myself after the worst ones, and I wasn’t really in a good place. Everything was moving too fast for me that night and I just needed time to come back. I was so scared when you left that night, so worried I had ruined our friendship...”

“That wouldn’t have happened,” Crowley interjects, shifting in Zira’s arms. “It just took me a bit to stop being an ass and actually think about what happened.”

“You have to understand though,” Zira whispers. “I couldn’t really see that that night and I was terrified. Even if I didn’t need to be, my brain wasn’t thinking rationally at the time and it was going to take a long while before it could.”

Zira trail off again, not really knowing how to talk about the next part, or how much to even bring up right now. As he mulls it over, he feels a hand land on top of his, a thumb rubbing gently over the back of his hand. He soon gets lost in the feeling, his mind settling as the gentle pressure soothes him. “I don’t have the best past when it comes to relationships. I’ve had... a lot happen to me, and sometimes I wonder if I’m broken now when it comes to them. If I’ll ever be able to have that again... I try not to think about it often, but...”

The words leave him just as quickly as they started to fall from his mouth in the first place and Zira realizes with a start he said more than he ever meant to. “Oh, my apologies. I didn’t mean to...”

“Zira,” Crowley interrupts. That thumb is still stroking Zira’s hand ever so gently, but the rest of the fingers have tightened their grasp. “Oh, Zira,” Crowley whispers.

Neither of them says anything for a long while and Zira wonders if he should have just kept quiet. He knows it’s silly to think that though and when Crowley doesn’t move to pull away, Zira feels those fears slip away. “That’s really only the surface of it. The rest is a little... Well, it’s a lot painful and maybe tonight isn’t the right time to talk about all of it.”

Crowley’s head nods against his chest and Zira finds he is happy the other understands. Not really knowing what else to say about his own issues, but not wanting everything to fall silent again, Zira wonders if Crowley will permit him a couple of questions...

“You know,” Crowley starts before Zira can. “I can feel you thinking back there. You do it kind of loudly.”

Zira turns to look down at Crowley and sees a smile tugging at his friend’s lips. He huffs before a smile tugs at his own face with a chuckle. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he says softly before he sinks further into couch, Crowley following him. When they both resettle, Zira is still holding Crowley, but they are both lying down now. Crowley is on his side, back pressed against the couch with his head pillows on Zira’s chest. “I do have something I was wondering about,” Zira mumbles as his hand that isn’t being held finds its way to red locks. “Mind, you don’t have to answer anything if you don’t want to. I’m just curious, if that’s ok.”

“Can’t say no if I don’t even know what the question is,” Crowley grumbles halfheartedly. Even with the playful tone, Zira can hear a twinge of anxiety behind the words.

Zira only continues to run his fingers through Crowley’s hair and feels the red head relax at his touch. “If you don’t mind, can I ask what happened to your leg to make it bother you this much?”

Crowley lets out a bark of laughter that causes Zira to jump. The other is soon apologizing though, hand waving before it goes back to splaying over Zira’s chest. “M’sorry, just not what I was expecting,” he quickly explains. “Thought you were going to ask something entirely different. Not that this isn’t a valid question.”

“Well, it seems to be quite a bother for you,” Zira counters. “Especially since we aren’t exactly old.”

“No, yeah, of course,” Crowley whispers, his smile still in his voice. “I’m just not used to the easy questions anymore.” Crowley shifts against Zira, turning his head so he can watch his own hand dancing across Zira’s chest.

“I’ve been in pain for as long as I can remember,” Crowley states and Zira already feels his breath catch.

“But.. That’s...” he stammers before Crowley shushes him.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he chuckles. “Let me finish. We tried the doctor thing. Several doctors actually. Most of them had never had someone so young in their offices. There were migraine specialists, pain doctors, therapists that thought I was making it all up... No one could ever really find anything that was causing me to hurt this badly, so I just got used to it.”

“Oh, Crowley,” Zira whispers, unable to keep the sadness out of his voice.

“Please Zira,” Crowley replies, hand stilling. Zira falls silent as he feels his friend take a deep, shuddering breath before he continues. “It was a lot, but it’s my past now. It never changed anything. Not like my parents didn’t try; my mother carted me around to doctor after doctor, the ones that were supposed to be the best of the best. I had so many tests run on me, was poked and prodded with so many needles... It wasn’t a fun time in my life. And at the end of the day, it never solved anything and just made me feel like I was losing my mind.

“So I got used to it, like I said,” Crowley continues. “I learned to live with it, learned my limits and found ways to deal with as much of the pain as I can. I can’t just shut down and not do anything, so I push through it until I can’t anymore or someone reminds me I don’t have to. Not that I listen to the latter very often, but you get my point.”

When Crowley is done with his story, Zira finds he doesn’t really know what to say, so he doesn’t. He’s not even sure he can look at Crowley right now without doing something that will surely offend the other, so he keeps his eyes adverted as he runs his hand over Crowley’s back. There must still be something written on his face though because Crowley shifts, resting his chin on Zira’s chest. Golden eyes shine even in the low lighting and Zira can’t pull his gaze away form them, which leaves him feeling naked and bare.

“You’re allowed to feel some way about all of this, you know,” Crowley whispers as they stare at each other. “Not like my past is a happy one.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m pitying you,” Zira replies, voice thick.

Crowley huffs. “I won’t. Besides, not like yours would be the first pity party I’ve ever had to deal with,” the red head jokes but Zira finds he can’t join in on it. Crowley seems to sense this and his smile slips away before he clears his throat. “So what’s the next question then?”

Zira blinks, pulled back away from the dark thoughts threatening to drag him away. The second question comes back to him in moments though and he does his best to keep his voice neutral as he asks. “I was wondering what causes your migraines? I’ve head it’s different for everyone...”

Crowley nods laying his head back down and Zira finds he is grateful to have a break from those eyes. “That’s the beauty of chronic migraines, unfortunately,” he begins. “ Pretty much everything and anything can bring one on.”

“That doesn’t sound particularly convenient,” Zira states, mulling that over in his mind.

“Not a bit, but it’s my life,” Crowley continues. “Got used to functioning with one a long time ago, even if they do leave me worn out after a period of time. Some days, it’s sound, others its a certain smell. Weather affects them too; pretty sure that’s what brought this one on. Other days, one is just there as soon as I wake up in the morning. Can’t really completely avoid them. The glasses help though, since light is definitely an issue as well.”

Zira listens and makes a special note to make sure to avoid as much of these as he can. He’ll never be able to stop Crowley’s migraines, obviously, but he can at least keep more from happening. They both fall silent after that; Zira buries himself with his own thoughts, hand still rubbing random patterns over Crowley. It isn’t until even, unbroken breathing reaches his ears finally that Zira looks down to see Crowley has fallen asleep where he lays on top of Zira.

When Anathema comes upstairs hours later, Zira raises a finger to his lips before pointing down at the sleeping red head. Anathema’s face of surprise at seeing Zira turns to a soft smile as she gently puts her bag and keys down. Zira watches her walk down the hallway and return moments later with a blanket in hand. Zira tries to wave her off, starts to pull himself up off the couch while also trying not to wake Crowley, but receives a swat on the arm. “Stay, it’s alright,” Anathema whispers as she drapes the blanket over them both.

Zira gives her a sheepish smile. “My apologies for imposing on you like this,” he tells her.

Anathema only shakes her head again. “It’s impossible to get him to sleep after he’s let his pain get that bad, especially with a migraine,” she explains as she reaches out a hand, gently brushing it through red hair. “Really, I should be thanking you.” As she straightens, Zira sees Crowley’s glasses in her hand. She places them on the table next to the two mugs before she walks off down the hall once more, switching off the lights as she goes.

Even with being in a different place he isn’t familiar with, the warmth of the blanket and the person next to him soon lulls Zira to sleep. For the first time in a very long time, Zira sleeps through the night, nightmare free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? You guys are the best readers!


	8. Chapter 8

Sunlight streaming through a window wakes Zira up early. For a moment, Zira is confused as he realizes he isn’t at home, but he soon remembers as his brain registers the sleeping form that is still on top of him. With a smile spreading on his face, Zira finds he can’t keep his eyes off of the red head’s face, his fingers dancing over soft strands of hair.

He’s pretty sure neither Crowley nor Anathema will wake any time soon, based on the night before. He’s never been one for sleeping in, but he finds he doesn’t mind being lazy this morning. Crowley shifting against him pulls Zira from his thoughts as they wraps an arm around Zira’s waist before settling again with a soft sigh. Zira releases the breath he didn’t even notice he was holding when Crowley stays asleep and his chest warms at the feeling of being held.

Time passes by as they lay there, the room growing brighter with every hour. Zira gets lost in his own mind, trying to figure out what he needs to get done later in the day as he continues to thread his fingers through Crowley’s hair. All too soon - at least in his opinion - Crowley is shifting again. Zira does his best to not stare, but when golden eyes blink open, squinting against the sunlight, Zira’s smile only grows bigger. “Good morning,” Zira whispers before he reaches for the sunglasses on the table, handing them over without another word.

Crowley only grunts at him before taking the sunglasses, quickly slipping them on his face and covering his eyes. “Did we stay here the whole night?” Crowley eventually asks, voice scratchy with sleep still and something else Zira can’t quite place.

“Yes, Anathema came home late last night and said it was fine,” Zira explains as he moves his hand to rub Crowley’s back. “What kind of day are we having?” Zira finds himself asking eventually, using one of the tips he read about.

He can tell Crowley pauses next to him as he processes the question. “I, uh...” Crowley stammers. “Can I get back to you on that...?” they finally say haltingly.

“Of course, dear,” Zira replies with a smile.

“Thanks...” Crowley whispers before dropping his head back down on Zira’s chest. A silence falls over them, one that Zira tries to enjoy for as long as he can. “We’re going to have to get up before too long,” Crowley says after a while and Zira sighs.

“Suppose you’re right. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.” Zira shifts, raising his arm to let Crowley up when the other starts to pull away.

A hissing noise reaches his ears, matching a pained look on Crowley’s face that has Zira racing to help, even though he finds he doesn’t quite know how. Zira slips his legs from the couch, moving to sit up as Crowley does so he can support him with an arm on the small of his back. Crowley flashes him a smile that ends up looking more like a grimace than anything else. Zira can feel the worry growing in him as he watches Crowley struggle, stopping every few inches. Even with his hand on his back, Zira almost misses the spasms that are happening right under his fingers.

“Sssorry...” Crowley hisses between clenched teeth.

“Please don’t be,” Zira hears himself saying.

As Crowley finally reaches a fully sitting up position, a hand lands on Zira’s shoulder, fingers digging in almost too hard. Zira only leans closer though, giving Crowley whatever kind of support he can. One leg slips off the couch, followed by another and Crowley releases a deep breath. “Next part is alwaysss the hardesssst.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Zira asks softly as Crowley continues to cling to him.

“I jusssst...” Crowley huffs before collecting himself again. “I just need something to hold on to. This is going to be hard; always is...”

Zira nods once, letting Crowley know he understands. “Whatever you need and whenever you’re ready.”

Crowley returns the nod and Zira watches as he takes a couple of deep breaths before nodding once more. Zira is ready for when Crowley starts to pull himself to his feet, but he isn’t ready for the cry that escapes his friend’s lips. Even with Zira there to support him, Crowley still struggles, clinging to Zira as if their life depends on it. “Almost there, dear,” Zira whispers, needing to say something.

Crowley growls in response, but Zira doesn’t take any offense. Zira doesn’t quite know what to do with the bouncing motion Crowley is having to make as they force their back to straighten, but he stands still, becoming what he hopes is a pillar of support. When Crowley is finally standing, they take a few cautious, wobbly steps that Zira matches, never once leaving the taller one’s side. “Those first few are always the worssst,” Crowley hisses with a wince. “Feels like standing on a bunch of nails...”

After Crowley has gone a few paces, he stops and moves from foot to foot easier and Zira finally feels comfortable with letting his grip slacken. “Is it always like this in the morning?” he asks as he keeps an eye on his friend.

With a shake of his head, Crowley removes themselves from Zira’s support entirely and Zira tries to not feel bad about it. “Usually only after a really bad night, luckily,” Crowley explains before wandering off.

Zira watches them go, catching on to the fact that Crowley is most definitely not a morning person in the slightest with a smile on his lips. The red head moves down the hallway, so Zira busies himself with cleaning up the tea mugs, knowing he will be able to take his own turn in the bathroom when Crowley returns. It doesn’t take him long to clean up, his sense of pride not letting him just leave dirty dishes laying around for Anathema to have to clean up later. He finds himself only hoping they aren’t waking her up and does his best to clean as quietly as possible.

Crowley returns after a few moments, glasses still covering those eyes, but Zira can sense the change that has come over them as they amble towards him. “Good morning,” Crowley says when they reach Zira’s side and Zira has to suppress the chuckle he feels growing in his throat. “Realized I never returned that earlier. And to answer your question...” Crowley starts before trailing off, running their hand through hair that is down and styled ever so slightly off to the side.

“Don’t worry, I think I have a good idea, my dear,” Zira fills in, noting the blush that creeps over Crowley’s face. “I’ll be right back.”

Zira waits for Crowley’s nod before he wanders off to the bathroom. After reliving himself, he splashes some water over his face and catches his own reflection in the mirror. “The hair is a clue,” he whispers to himself before drying his face off and making his way back to the kitchen. “Breakfast?” He asks once he is in front of Crowley once again.

The red head stares for a moment. “Are you sure? I feel bad for taking up your whole night...”

“No need for that,” Zira replies instantly. “I wouldn’t have been doing anything important. Besides, you were there for me when I needed help. No reason I can’t return the favor. Remember, I could have left whenever I wanted.”

Crowley’s face searches Zira’s and the blonde wishes not for the first time that he could just see what is going on in those eyes. Much as he wants to act on his impulses though, Zira keeps his hands at his sides and away from the thin frame of those glasses he wishes weren’t sitting in between them and just waits as patiently as he can. He knows Crowley will talk when they’re ready. “Breakfast...” Crowley finally mumbles as they both continue to stare at each other.

“Yes, I know we’ve already been there once, but I was thinking we can go to that cafe,” Zira supplies, hoping he’s taking some of the anxiety out of the whole situation. “Unless you still don’t feel great, in which case, parting ways for now is also fine. Whatever you’re comfortable with, dear,” Zira finishes, giving Crowley whatever options they need.

After a longer stretch of silence than Zira was anticipating, he almost decides to call the offer off, but before he can get the words out of his mouth, Crowley nods. “Yeah... alright, breakfast.”

Zira smiles and moves a step back so Crowley can make their way to the door. Zira follows quickly, grabbing his coat that Anathema must have brought up last night for him as he passes through. Standing in front of the flight of stairs, Zira feels a twinge of worry as the memories from last night crash down on him and he chances a glance over at Crowley. The bartender only grasps the railing tightly and starts to hobble their way down the steps, taking them one at a time. Zira follows, giving Crowley space to maneuver while also staying within reach if he needs to grab onto them.

It doesn’t take them long to descend the steps without incident and Zira follows Crowley out of the back door, heading outside with a burst of cold air. He pulls the collar of his coat closer around his neck as he turns to follow Crowley, who is pulling on their own coat they pulled out from somewhere they passed. They walk in silence, Zira enjoying the morning sunlight, occasionally glancing over at his friend who still doesn’t seem quite awake.

When they reach the cafe, Zira is the one to approach the counter first, Crowley suddenly hanging back and standing a few steps behind Zira. The barista behind the register smiles at Zira. “Back again already?” She asks and Zira quickly notices it’s the same girl from the night before.

“I could ask the same of you,” he says with a wink and the barista chuckles.

“Fair enough,” she replies with a giggle. “Same tea?”

“Yes, that would be lovely, and one of those cranberry scones to go with it,” Zira answers. “And my friend here will have...”

“Coffee, black,” Crowley fills in as they move closer.

Zira turns back to the barista with a smile, wallet already in hand. He waves off Crowley, talking over the protests he can already hear building and pays for their items. Change in hand, Zira turns and starts to walk towards their corner table, laughing softly at the grumbling he hears trailing after him. “You paid last time,” Zira says as they both sit down.

Crowley only winces slightly as they lower themselves into the seat opposite Zira and Zira waits as they settle. After taking a deep breath, Crowley lets out a sigh. “Yeah, but I’m not the one who ended up spending their entire evening trapped in someone’s home because a weirdo fell asleep on them,” they eventually mumble, not quite looking in Zira’s direction.

“I could have left whenever I wanted to,” Zira replies simply. “It’s not like you had me chained up; I very easily could have slid off of the couch. I just chose not too.”

Their conversation dies off as the barista brings over their drinks. Mugs steam in front of them and the smell of warmed cranberries reaches Zira as he takes a sip of his tea, mindful to not burn his tongue so he will be able to enjoy the scone. Crowley leaves their coffee on the table and Zira waits for a response, quirking an eyebrow as he does.

“Alright, fine,” Crowley grunts before reaching for their coffee which makes Zira smile. “I still feel bad, but you’ve already paid, so there’s that.”

Zira chuckles before taking a bite of his scone and promptly losing himself in the flavor for sometime. Crowley falls silent again, slowly drinking his coffee every now and then and Zira lets the peaceful moment fill him. He can’t remember the last time he was allowed to just enjoy himself like this, out with someone else with no other strings attached. Certainly not within the last six years or so... With a small shake of his head he hopes Crowley doesn’t notice, Zira takes another sip of his tea, banishing those thoughts from his mind. He’s here to enjoy himself, not make himself sad thinking about events he can never change.

Crowley’s voice soon pulls him even further away from those thoughts as they speak up once their drink has been finished. “I don’t know if I ever thanked you properly last night,” they begin as they lean forward, placing their elbows on the table.

Zira swallows the last of his tea before he relaxes into his seat, wondering where the other is going with this. “Whatever for?” he replies when Crowley doesn’t continue right away.

He hears a sigh escape those lips. “I never thanked you for clarifying, and for opening up to me as much as you did last night,” Crowley whispers. “I was really... well, I was something anyways, after the whole incident a few nights ago, and I guess I’m just happy that I have a better understanding what all was going on that night. I still don’t really feel like I know the whole story, obviously, but it’s nice to have a clearer idea.”

Zira feels his face freeze as he listens to Crowley, not really sure how to feel about where this conversation is going. “I...” he starts.

“To be honest,” Crowley says, stepping in when Zira doesn’t go on. “I was really afraid that it had something to do with me when you told me that. Silly, I know, but after telling you about me and not really knowing... well, I was worried you had decided this whole gender thing I have was too much and that you were changing your mind about me.”

Zira deflates at that, something in him breaking the same way it did when Crowley first opened up to him. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way...” Zira says softly, resisting the urge to reach out to the slim fingers resting on the table. “I hope... That was never what I intended with that.”

Crowley nods, tapping their fingers on the table. “Yeah, I see that now luckily. I’m only sorry I made you feel like you even had to ask me to slow down in the first place.”

Zira smiles, finally reaching those few inches for Crowley’s hand. He doesn’t wrap his fingers around the others, doesn’t hold on in a way Crowley can’t pull away from if they decide to. Instead, he just settles his hand over Crowley’s, allowing each other to just touch. “Seems like we’ve both had some misunderstandings. I’m glad we were able to talk about it though.”

Crowley nods, not moving their hand even when the barista returns to take their mugs away. “I’m happy we could talk as well,” they whisper once they are alone again.

When everything has been cleared away and breakfast has been finished, Zira wonders if this is going to be the end of their time for the week. Surprisingly, to him at least, even just the thought of no longer being in Crowley’s presence anymore today has a strange feeling building in his gut and he has to drop his eyes. When Crowley’s hand twitches under his own, Zira braces himself, waiting for it to pull away completely.

“So what do you normally get up to on a Saturday?” Crowley asks, causing Zira to lift his head again and find his own reflection once more.

“Oh, I don’t normally do much...” he whispers, a timid smile growing on his face. “If I do anything fun, it’s usually just a trip to a bookshop or two if I have time and some extra money. I find it’s always relaxing to walk around one, especially after a rough work week.”

Crowley nods. “Going to one today then?”

Zira mulls the question over, wondering if he has the time. “I might. I never really know if I’m going until I go, to be perfectly honest.”

Crowley seems to ponder this new fact, face blank with those glasses hiding so much. “We could go together, if you want.”

Zira has to allow time for the question to process, has to give his brain time to catch up as those words wash over him. “N-now?” he hears himself asking in an attempt to give himself more time.

“If you want,” Crowley replies, pulling themselves to their feet. “I would just want to run home first and change, if that’s alright. Wouldn’t mind swinging by your place so you can do the same if you want.”

When Crowley has finished speaking, Zira still hasn’t really caught up enough and he finds his mouth moving without anything falling out. He forces it to close and takes a deep breath to steady himself. Crowley’s face breaks into a wide grin and Zira feels a blush spreading over his face. “I... yes, that sounds like... That sounds like fun, my dear.”

Once Zira pulls himself to his feet, he follows Crowley out of the cafe and back towards the direction of the bar. It doesn’t take them long to reach the brick building; they walk fairly quickly, Crowley's limp from the night before all but gone now. Zira trails behind a few steps, not really knowing how to continue their conversation anymore, so he doesn’t and just tries to push down the feeling that is growing in his stomach. Crowley wants to spend more time with him. _With him_. Not really knowing how to feel about it, Zira just pushes on and does his best to not let himself get too excited. Who knows how this could all really go.

_Crowley will just learn what kind of person you really are. That you really are just a fuck up. Spending more time with them is just going to ruin everything...._

Zira feels his steps slow as those thoughts push in and he has to take a deep breath before shaking himself and hurrying after Crowley once more. When he catches up to the red head, they have circled around the bar and are making their way over to the sleek black car parked behind it. Crowley unlocks it and both of them slide in. Before Zira’s thoughts can intrude again, he watches as Crowley reaches over to turn the radio on and the sounds of Queen starts to fill the space between them.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Crowley says as they start the car. “Their album got stuck ages ago and I just never bothered to get the damn thing fixed.”

“Not at all,” Zira replies with a smile. He’s never minded the band and he thinks it’s funny Crowley apparently doesn’t either. The bartender pulls out of the small parking area quickly and Zira turns his gaze out the window, watching as the city flies past while Crowley heads in what must be the direction of their home.

When they pull up to a group of buildings, Zira takes in the sight of hard edges and grey concrete with a tilt of his head. “I know,” Crowley whispers, almost as if they can hear what Zira is pondering. “Not really my style, but I was drawn to it for some reason at the time. Just haven’t found the energy to move out yet.”

Zira nods his head while he hums softly. “Yes, after last night I can see how that probably isn’t the easiest task in the world for you.”

“Goes by fast if I have help, but that hasn’t always been something that’s available to me,” Crowley whispers. Zira watches as a change comes over their face, but with those glasses still firmly in place, he can’t quite read exactly what that change is telling him.

“Well, if that day ever comes around again,” Zira manages to say as Crowley finds a parking spot. “I will be more than happy to help you move. No need to do it without help this time, though I’m not quite sure how much help I would be.”

Crowley just smiles, a small one that ticks the edges of their lips upwards and Zira feels something wiggle in his chest at the sight. It isn’t long after that that they are exiting the vehicle and making their way over to a specific building in the Mayfair complex. Once they get inside, Zira continues to be amazed that Crowley chooses to live here. Even if it’s a choice they made during a different part of their life, he just can’t picture Crowley actually living in this place. The grey concrete continues inside, giving the entire place a modern feel, but also making it dark and uninviting. When they reach the elevator, Crowley reaches over and swipes a card that calls the machine. They don’t have to wait long for it to arrive and Zira follows his friend inside.

The ride up to the top floor passes quickly without anything else exchanged and Zira once again follows as Crowley leads them down the hallway that opens up to them. When they reach the last door on the left, Crowley swipes his card once more and the door lock clicks softly, allowing them access inside. “I’ll just be a moment; feel free to look around if you like. I won’t mind.” Crowley moves on after speaking, pointing out the living room as they pass it and Zira nods, even though they can’t see him any longer with their back turned.

Much as Zira wants to stay by the door while he waits, he can’t help but be drawn towards is friend’s living room as he looks around for something that says this place actually belongs to Crowley. Everything around him just seems so... out of place, considering everything he knows about Crowley, but as he looks around, he can’t help but be reminded he doesn’t actually know much. The living room is filled with hardly any furniture; there’s a large couch that takes up most of the room with an even larger television hanging on the wall over the fireplace. Zira eyes the couch with a wary eye, not actually sitting on it as it doesn’t actually look all that comfortable.

He looks around a little more, catching another door out of the corner of his eye and heads towards it as he continues to wait. Walking through it, Zira feels his breath catch as he looks around this new room, one that is completely different than the room he just left. The room has light streaming down from a window further up, giving the whole room a gentle glow that fills all of the space. Not there is much. As Zira moves further into the room, he can’t help but reach out. “Oh, look at you beautiful things,” he whispers.

The room is filled with plants of all kinds. They hang from the ceiling, rest on tables, and live in giant pots sitting on the floor. Some have flowers and blossoms, but mostly, the room is just so green and vibrant. As he walks around, Zira feels drawn to each and every plant, taking in the sight of them without really knowing what types the are, but he doesn’t let that keep him from enjoying all of them. A smile grows on his face as he moves back to the middle of the room. Standing there, he feels he can finally feel Crowley’s presence in this place, can finally see where his friend has left their mark.

“Hope you’re not spoiling them,” a voice calls from behind him and Zira turns his head to look at his friend. “They tend to run wild when they get spoiled.”

As Crowley saunters into the room, Zira finds he can’t tear his eyes from them; the clothes from last night have been replaced, switched out for less masculine items. They are still dressed warmly, but are now wearing a snug fitting sweater that hugs their body closely and Zira is happy to see that the sunglasses are hidden away for now. Black skinny jeans still cover their legs, but Zira can tell the style is slightly different and they end in a pair of warm looking ankle boots. “They are absolutely amazing,” Zira finally says as Crowley moves to stand next to him.

“Come from all over the place,” Crowley says. “Tend to get too into themselves sometimes though and if they know what’s good for them, they’ll behave themselves this time.”

Zira fails to hold back a chuckle as Crowley’s words take on a slight growl towards the end. The red head turns to look at him and they both end up sharing a laugh. “Sounds ridiculous, I know, but still,” Crowley says after they catch their breath. “They tend to get spots occasionally and they know I don’t stand for those.”

“How do you ever get them to grow like that?” Zira whispers as he starts to look around again. “I can’t even keep a small flower alive and yet here you have a garden that rivals the best garden in the city!”

Crowley runs a hand through their hair at Zira’s words. “Just a hobby, really. Something I got started doing when I moved here and I just never stopped.”

Zira looks around once more, resisting the urge to reach out and touch them again before he turns back to Crowley. “You look amazing today, dear,” Zira says softly, watching the blush that creeps over Crowley’s face. They duck their face and do their best to hide the blush and Zira ducks his own face so it doesn’t seem like he is staring. “I like that sweater.”

Crowley shifts their weight from foot to foot before they lift their head once more. “Thanks, Zira,” they say softly and Zira feels a smile growing on his face.

“Shall we?” Zira asks, looking back towards the front door. As much as he is enjoying being able to be a part of Crowley’s space, he also doesn’t want to make them uncomfortable. He also still wants to be able to have fun with their day and isn’t sure when Crowley has to get to work.

Crowley only nods, slipping a different pair of glasses on their face that Zira hasn’t seen before. The glasses still have mirrored lenses, but they have a different color and shape to them that have a whole different feel. Zira has to hold back a sigh as he loses sight of those wonderful eyes, but he knows that Crowley needs them and he knows that he will get to see those eyes again eventually. As Zira follows Crowley out, he looks back over his shoulder one last time and wonders if he will be able to come back eventually.

_You’ll screw it up._

“Ready to go?” Crowley asks and Zira comes back to himself.

He smiles at Crowley, nodding. The red head gives him a strange look and Zira wonders what they are thinking about, but they both leave the apartment without a word, Crowley locking the door behind them. From Crowley’s building to Zira’s, it’s a bit of a drive, but it goes by quickly. When they reach Zira’s place, it doesn’t take Zira long to change. He leaves Crowley waiting in the car, not wanting the other to have to climb his stairs after last night. With a new set of clothes and a couple other items in hand, Zira hurries back to the car, sliding back in with a smile on his face.

“You’re sure you’re doing alright?” Crowley asks once Zira is settled.

Zira feels his smile slip a small bit. _He can tell, can see it, can see all of it-_ “I’m doing better,” Zira replies after a beat. “I’ve learned that it’s all I can hope for somedays.”

Crowley nods their head before starting the car. “Alright then,” they say, turning to look back at Zira once more with that smile that holds so much mischief in it. “Where to?”

Zira feels his own smile return and he pushes aside as much of the worry he feels as he possibly can, wanting this day to go right. Just this one day.

⁂

The morning goes better than Zira ever could have hoped, even with a speed bump or two. They make it to the first bookstore and find a parking spot easily, relatively close to the building, which Zira is happy about. Crowley follows him around as he points to the various classics and authors he loves so much. He has read at least one title from all of them, with a particular fondness for Hemingway. Any time he looks over at Crowley, he is met with the brightest smile from them and Zira can’t help but glow.

The second shop they travel to is a couple of blocks over and Crowley mentions they don’t mind walking even in the chilly weather. Zira keeps his hands tucked in his pockets, but whenever they bump against each other, Zira can’t pretend he doesn’t feel a thrill go through him. The new shop is the one Zira is the most nervous about, the one he has always had a special place for in his heart, and oh, how he wants Crowley to love it too...

“This one came in handy recently,” he tells Crowley while they walk. “Mind, it’s always been a favorite of mine, but they have some of the best education literature in the area.”

When he looks over, Crowley is smirking at him. “I was wondering where you learned some things,” they say as they reach the shop.

“Yes, well,” Zira stammers as he reaches for the door handle. “I have to admit, I had some... knowledge gaps, and I didn’t think it was fair for you to have to be the one to fill all of them in.”

Crowley pauses halfway through the door and Zira has to stop himself so he doesn’t run into them. He tilts his head as he looks at glasses covered eyes - tries to anyways - and instantly starts to wonder if he said something he shouldn’t have. Before he can speak, Crowley is interrupting him: “No one’s ever done that for me before...” they whisper.

They continue to stare at Zira for a moment as if they can’t quite understand that someone would willing do this. “Just didn’t seem fair that you should be the only one teaching me stuff. It can’t be easy doing that for everyone that doesn’t know.”

At this, Zira motions towards the store, encouraging Crowley to go through so the cold air doesn’t keep blowing in. Zira follows behind and then leads the way around the store, waving at the people working as he goes. Soft steps behind him let Zira know Crowley is following and he finds himself waiting for the other to talk first, still not convinced he hasn’t ruined everything.

When they reach the part of the store that contains the LGBTQ books, Zira goes to walk past, but senses Crowley stopping behind him. He turns and catches sight of Crowley running their hand over some of the books that are on display. They trace over a few of them carefully, but Zira notices they don’t actually pick any of them up. Zira moves closer and realizes he recognizes a few of the titles; ones he got last time along with a few he skimmed before leaving the store.

“Are these..?” Crowley finally asks softly.

Zira nods. “Some of them, yes. I had one of the people who work here help me out since I wasn’t entirely sure what I needed.”

Crowley continues to look them over and Zira wishes he knew what was going on in their head, wonders if he made the right choice with the books he got. “You could borrow them, if you want. Make sure I’m reading the right things? Learning stuff that actually pertains to you?”

Zira watches as Crowley pulls their hand away from the books. “Reading isss....” they start before taking a deep breath when they hiss. “Not very easssy for me, unfortunately.”

They turn to look at Zira finally, moving their glasses to the top of their head as they do. “Pretty to look at, but a pain when it comes to being useful,” they explain with a wave of their hand. “Words don’t always behave on the pages when I try to read them so it makes it really hard.”

Zira feels his heart drop as Crowley speaks. He can see the sadness they are trying so hard to hide behind their eyes, and he realizes his mistake quickly. _You brought them to a bookstore..._ _Reading is hard for them and you dragged them around to look at books all day..._ Panic soon follows the ache and Zira feels like he can’t catch his breath suddenly. “Oh, Crowley,” he starts, cringing at the worry he can hear in his words. “And here I am, dragging you to different bookstores all day. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“Zira,” Crowley says softly and Zira makes himself stop rambling. “None of that matters. I’ve had fun just watching you, looking at you light up. I was just informing you, is all. Don’t want you to think I’m some weirdo that hates reading.”

A smile is flashed Zira’s way before a hand reaches out to him, landing gently on his arm. Crowley slowly strokes their thumb back and forth, doing what they can to calm Zira without making a scene. Zira has to close his eyes while he takes a deep breath, trying to center himself as much as he can. _You’re ruining this day, ruining this entire trip here, thought you were so clever..._ “You had no way of knowing, Zira. Plus, I never said I hated bookstores. It’s always nice to see what’s popular at the time so I know if I’m actually getting a good audio book.”

Golden eyes flash at him and Zira starts to calm even more with that steadying pressure still on his arm. After a moment or two, he finally feels his heartbeat slow down and some of the panic starts to abate. “Thank you,” he whispers a few more moments later.

“No worries, Zira,” Crowley replies. “I never meant to make you panic by telling you that, but I want you to know, I like that I can be honest with you about so much.”

At this, Zira feels the warmth come back to him and he feels himself lean into the hand still on his arm. “I’m happy you feel you can be honest with me,” Zira finally says.

They end up staying at this store longer than the first. Zira introduces Crowley to a few of the people working, especially the two he sees the most often. One of them even ends up recommending a good place for Crowley to get more inclusive audio books at and Zira manages to forget all about the earlier interaction. By the time they leave, Zira has a giant smile on his face that is starting to make his cheeks ache and he’s carrying a small bag with a couple of books in them that Crowley pointed out to him.

It’s gotten colder outside, so they both walk as fast as Crowley’s able to and make it back to the car in no time. “I had a lot of fun today,” Zira states as he looks down at his hands as he tries to rub some feeling back into them. “Thank you for agreeing to join me.”

“Thank you for having me,” Crowley replies as they start to pull the car away. “It was a good time; we could do this again sometime, if you want.”

Zira feels his brain stop in place at this. At the idea that Crowley actually wants to spend time with him again outside of the bar, outside of the panic attacks and the needing to clean each other up. “That would be...” Zira pauses, knowing the words he wants to say, but he feels a strange flutter in his stomach as he goes to voice them. “That would be most enjoyable,” he finishes, not daring to look up and see what may or may not be playing across Crowley’s face.

They fall silent as Crowley drives and Zira finally finds the strength to lift his eyes, if only to watch the world go by. As Crowley drives, Zira mentions lunch, wondering if Crowley wants to get some food before they have to get to work. He remembers that Crowley only had coffee this morning and feels it’s only right they stop somewhere different this time. “Yeah, that sounds fine,” Crowley says, but Zira notices there isn’t a whole lot of emotion behind their words to show they actually care one way or the other.

“Oh, well,” Zira starts, hoping he isn’t overstepping in any way. “There’s this great little Thai place that hardly anyone knows about, if that sounds good to you.”

Crowley’s lips twitch and Zira feels himself relax a bit at the sight. “Sounds wonderful,” Crowley whispers and Zira gets to work on giving them directions.

It does end up being a wonderful time; Zira manages to get Crowley to eat and ends up finding out that the other forgets to sometimes. They don’t have any issues with eating, per say, but they just have a hard time remembering to actually follow through with eating. Zira ends up making a mental note to either text Crowley reminders, or to offer to eat with them more often, if only to help make sure that they are eating in the first place. If it ends up meaning they get to spend time with each other more often, he won’t mind that either.

When they get ready to walk back outside, it’s to see it has started to rain in the city. Zira takes a deep breath, wondering how Crowley is holding up, but when he looks over at them, they don’t seem to be in any pain or aching from the rain at all. They hurry to the car and when Zira opens his door, he feels a small panic go through him when the bag from the bookstore falls out of the car instantly. “Oh, the books,” he laments, reaching down to pick up the bag.

“They’re right here,” Crowley explains, reaching under his seat for the books. “Took them out of the bag earlier and placed them under the seat; that window has a tendency to leak and I haven’t gotten it fixed yet.”

Zira looks at Crowley before climbing into the car. The other hands over the small stack of books and Zira cradles them to his chest when he looks over at Crowley. “Alright, anywhere you want to go?” Crowley asks.

He mentions home, wanting to make sure Crowley can make it to work on time and the bartender just smiles at him in understanding. As they fly through the city once more that day, Zira feels something glowing in his chest as he thinks about how Crowley moved his books so they didn’t get wet. _They definitely didn’t have to do that,_ he realizes. _They were thinking about me though..._

A big, goofy grin spreads on Zira’s face a moment before he recognizes the feeling that is growing in his stomach. His smile doesn’t go anywhere, but worry manages to shove it’s way in as well and Zira has to wonder what this all could mean as he stares at the red head, doing what he can to memorize all of those lines and angles._ I... No.... It’s too soon... I don’t deserve it anyways..._ he tells himself, but he knows that with as deep as this feeling has settled, it’s not going anywhere any time soon and he wonders how Crowley would feel if they knew...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy? I hope so!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note a couple extra tags have been added

The rest of Zira’s weekend flies by fairly quickly after that. He manages to find time to sort his new books and ends up checking in on Crowley the following morning to make sure the other had an easy night at the bar after everything that happened. He got an answer surprisingly quickly, given the time, and Zira can’t help but smile for the remainder of his day. It carries him through until Monday morning, even after he gets to work. He almost makes it through the majority of his week carried by the memories of his weekend.

Thursday morning, Zira wakes when his alarm goes off; he reaches over and turns it off with a groan, not really wanting to wake up and go to work today. _Only have to get through two more work days... Just have to actually get through them first..._ Sighing, Zira blinks the sleep out of his eyes as he fumbles for the button that will make the alarm stop ringing. When the noise finally stops, Zira takes another look at the home screen on his phone. “December 2nd,” he whispers to himself. “Would have been 6 years today...”

As he wakes, his brain registers the words that just came out of his mouth and Zira feels his heart drop.

Something in him crashes, splintering apart around him as he continues to stare at his phone screen that has now gone blank.

_Six years..._

_Three years without him... Of not being.... With...._

Zira’s day starts to pass him in flashes.

He manages to pull himself together long enough to write an email, letting everyone know he is going to be out of the office for the next day or two. Nasty flu that has just popped up...

His phone gets chucked to the other side of the room at one point, clattering against the wall as it goes. Everything starts to lose all coherency for him as his brain starts an endless loop he can’t figure out how to stop. Finding as much energy as he can, he curls into a ball, wrapping his blanket over his head to block out the world that he knows is still moving just on the other side of the window across from him.

It all starts to run together after that. Zira doesn’t really know what happens, can’t pull himself away from the swirling thoughts in his head. Unable to pull himself away from it all, Zira lets it consume him, not knowing what else to do or who to turn to...

_Crowley..._ A part of him whispers, something in him trying to light a spark, trying to help him...

_Can’t subject him to this..._

_Not again..._

Zira pulls himself out of bed long enough to take a piss and grab a glass of water, but he makes his way back to bed afterwards, collapsing back into his cocoon. _Crowley will want to help, wants to be there for you..._ Zira’s shaking as he tries to hold it all in, tries to push everything back into the box where it belongs.

_I can’t have him see me like this.._

_Can’t have him see just how broken I really am..._

_Why did I have to think about you today of all days..._

The sun is setting when Zira starts to come back to himself long enough to pull himself out of bed once more. “Should grab my phone,” he mumbles, but doesn’t move for it. “Just going to be full of work emails anyways... No reason for anyone else to reach out to me...”

_Crowley might_

He wanders around his apartment for a short time, not really knowing why he even got out of bed. He looks towards the kitchen, but doesn’t move to make anything; the thought alone of eating has his stomach rolling, so he knows it won’t turn out good at all. His bookcase catches his eye for a moment, but Zira continues pacing past it, not reaching for any them as even more memories start to wash over him.

_“Don’t know why we have to come here again... Weren’t we just here last weekend....”_

_“Such a waste of fucking money, Aziraphale...”_

Zira shivers, crossing his arms over his body as more memories pour in. He tries to walk back to his bedroom, but ends up finding his bookshelf and uses it to slide to the floor where he curls into another ball instead. “I’ll go back to bed eventually...” he mutters to himself. “The floor is... nice...”

_“You have so many of them! They’re fucking everywhere!”_

_What’s the point... No one is ever going to give a shit... I’m not worth it..._

_“Fucking hoarder, that’s what you are, Aziraphale.”_

Zira’s crying.

His face is sopping wet before he notices. He moves to wipe his face, but no matter how much he rubs at it, more just appear. Taking a deep breath, Zira tries to calm down... The harder he tries though, the worse it gets and before he knows it, he’s sobbing in earnest with echoes still haunting him. It eventually puts him to sleep as he exhausts himself completely...

By the time Zira wakes up again, it’s completely dark outside. He peels his eyes open and realizes he’s still on the floor. _Not like you deserve anything better..._ With a pained groan, Zira shifts, willing his joints to move for him. Sitting up is a struggle for him, his back and hips protesting at being locked for so long on the floor. When he finally pulls himself to his feet, he has to use the shelf to support him.

As he takes a few hesitant steps, he’s smacked with the memories again and he has to fight the urge to drop back to the floor. He makes it to his room instead, curling back into his bed. Sleep moves over him in no time, pulling him back under even as Zira fights to stay awake, not wanting whatever is waiting for him.

_“Always were so soft... and lazy... Never had any motivation...”_

Zira’s sleep is plagued by dreams, but for once when he wakes up, he wishes it had been nightmares he had to deal with. You need to get up... He finds a spot on the wall, not really seeing anything, not really focusing on it, but he stares anyways. He tries to push it all away, wants to go back to forgetting, and he finds he can’t.

_“I had such a nice time tonight, Aziraphale....”_

_Please, go away..._

_“You’re so beautiful like this, so good for me...”_

_“I wish we could just stay like this forever... Just you and me, never moving from this spot...”_

“You were so good to me, then...” Zira whispers to himself. “Why did it all have to change...”

Except he knows it didn’t change. It was the same from the very beginning and he just never saw it. Couldn’t see how terrible it was all going. How he was causing it all to fall apart through his stupid mistakes...

_Can’t think that way, have to remember it wasn’t all..._

_What? All you?_

_“Maybe if you just listened for once, Aziraphale...!”_

Zira closes his eyes, shutting them tightly in an attempt to block it all out, to make it all go away. It doesn’t of course,e but he tries anyways, and he goes back to floating... The day moves on around him, leaving him in its tracks and Zira doesn’t really notice. he repeats the same steps as yesterday, only getting up when he absolutely needs to, but he finds it so much easier to stay right where he is.

Friday afternoon bleeds into Friday night and Zira can’t bring himself to care. All thoughts of the red head have been pushed aside as he relives three of the worst years of his life without pause. At some point during the night, his brain registers the sound of his phone buzzing and he tries to find the energy to get up and check it.

_“What the fuck are you doing?”_

_“Don’t I matter to you? Am I just a fucking joke to you, Aziraphale?”_

_*Crash*_

Zira lets the phone keep buzzing, eventually blocking it out entirely. He tells himself he should eat something, but he soon blocks out that voice as well. None of it matters, not really, not anymore...

He loses all track of time, not even aware of what’s going on outside of his window anymore. As he lays there, a part of him starts to become distantly aware of a pounding noise and he only groans, wanting so badly to block it all out, to just be able to slip away... The pounding continues though and Zira realizes it’s getting louder. _Why..._

After a few more moments, Zira’s brain kicks in and informs him it’s his own door that’s being pounded on. When this thought settles in, Zira starts to untangle himself form the bed and pulls himself to his feet, standing on wobbly legs next to it.

“Zira - !”

_You know that voice_

_Probably here to tell me off..._

“ -ira, open up-”

Zira forces his legs to carry him to the door, the pounding noise ringing in his ears heavily now. He leans his head on the wooden door, letting the vibrations flow through his body as he takes a moment to breath before he finally opens the door.

Wide eyes filled with so much greet him, along with a fist that’s ready to knock again. “Zira...” Crowley whispers.

The blonde doesn’t say anything. His legs are barely keeping him up, but he doesn’t move to let Crowley in so they might go sit down. He quickly finds he can’t do anything except take in the sight in front of him as his past whispers to him. Crowley is there, in his doorways, hair a tangled mess with wild eyes. “Where... what happened, Zira?”

He must flinch because the next thing he knows, Crowley is reaching for him. An arm lands on his arm, fingers barely even grazing him and Zira jumps back, almost losing his balance as he does. Crowley pulls away quickly and Zira watches pain flit across his face. _All you ever do is hurt people... Hurt those that are just trying to help you out..._

Zira regains his balance, but ends up falling anyways, the wind knocking itself out of his lungs as he hits the floor. He sees Crowley jump after him but the red head stops before he can actually touch Zira._ Him.... him today... can see his glasses there.... in his pocket...._ He never leaves Zira’s sight, keeping both of his hands in view, but it doesn’t really matter: Zira is still shaking.

“Look at me, Zira,” Crowley whispers. “Please, just look at me.”

_Don’t... he doesn’t need to see it... see what you’re hiding..._

“It’s just us, Zira,” Crowley continues and Zira wants to listen, he really does...

With a sigh, he pulls his eyes up and finds the golden ones that are trying so hard to tell him something... A hand hovers near him again and Zira moves his eyes to look at it and back. This time, he has a chance to brace himself, has time to tell his broken brain it’s Crowley, has a chance to nod and actually agree... When the hand lands on him, he still flinches, but he doesn’t pull away.

“That’s good, Zira,” Crowley says and Zira can hear his voice cracking underneath the calm words. “That’s really g-good.”

Zira has to stop himself before he leans into the touch, not wanting to rely on Crowley more than he already is. _This isn’t going to last, it will never last, not when he finds out what happened, not when-_ “Why... Why are you here,” Zira whispers, trying to keep his focus on Crowley even as he wants to run away again.

Crowley blinks at him and Zira can see that there’s now confusion mixed in with everything else. “Zira, no one....” Crowley starts before stopping to take a deep breath. “I haven’t been able to get a hold of you for three days, Zira...”

“We just talked though.... It can’t have been three days...” Zira replies as his mind starts flying, trying to piece the missing time together. As far as he can tell, it’s Saturday afternoon at the most. That’s the only thing that seems logical to him anyways.

“Do you know what day it is?” Crowley asks. The worry and fear filling his voice makes Zira want to run away. Zira only shakes his head, not really wanting to answer since it’s obvious the idea he has is wrong. “It’s Sunday... When you didn’t show up to the bar on Friday, without a message or anything... I’ve been trying so hard to contact you, to try and figure out if you were ok or not... Zira, what happened...?”

Zira can only stare into those golden eyes, can only see how much pain and hurt his inaction has caused. How badly he’s ruining this relationship that hasn’t even had a chance to really get going. The words spring to mind and before he can even stop them, before he can shove them back into his mouth and stop them from spilling out: “It was our anniversary...”

Understanding dawns on Crowley’s face as Zira watches and something behind Crowley’s face breaks. Zira can’t watch it unfold though, but he also finds he can’t tear his eyes away. Moving slowly, Crowley reaches for Zira with his other arm and Zira feels his body being pulled towards the other and he lets it happen. He collapses against Crowley’s chest and feels arms wrap around his back, pulling him even closer, but he finds he can’t bring himself to do the same.

One of Crowley’s hands starts to rub his back, but Zira doesn’t find any comfort in the motion, not in the way he thinks one is supposed to. “Oh, Zira,” Crowley sighs and Zira feels the words brush against his skin which makes him shiver again. Crowley must think this means he is cold because the other starts to pull Zira even closer to him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Zira blurts out even though part of him knows that isn’t what Crowley means. Thankfully, the red head doesn’t correct him and they both sit there in silence.

It’s only broken when Crowley shifts his weight and Zira hears his breath catch. He’s reminded that they are on the floor, that this much be hell on Crowley’s knees, and this thought alone pulls him out of his head just enough. He untangles himself from Crowley’s grasp and averts his eyes as much as he can. Once he’s free, he stands, holding out a hand to help Crowley up as well.

Even once they are both standing, Crowley doesn’t let go of Zira’s hand right away and Zira finds himself looking there, instead of at the those golden eyes. He can feel them burning in his direction, can feel the weight of everything behind them, but he can’t look at them. He knows it will be entirely too much right now.

“Zira, I-”

“You can leave,” Zira interrupts. The words start to fall from him before he even realizes they exist and he can’t drag them back. “It’s ok, you don’t have to stay and look after me. There’s no point in that, no point in you being this nice to me... Not with how much I’ve apparently made you worry.”

The weight in those eyes changes, he can feel it. Can feel the pressure on his hand change as knuckles whiten. “Zira...” Crowley starts and the blonde can hear all of the pain behind that one word and he grits his teeth against it.

_Thought you could have a friend... thought you were finally moving on... Thought you could have a normal fucking life..._

_Though you might actually getting something nice..._

_Stupid... stupid... stupid... st-_ “-upid... stupid... stu-”

Zira grunts as he is pulled into a crushing hug against a thin frame. The air leaves his lungs for the second time that day and he finds it harder to get it back this time. Slowly, he realizes that he had starts speaking out loud at some point and he feels the anxiety pour in to fit whatever cracks are still left in him. Crowley hooks his chin over Zira’s shoulder and Zira tenses, wanting so badly to run away more than he already did want to.

“I’ve got you, Zira,” Crowley tells him and Zira feels the words hit hard. “You don’t have to do this alone, don’t have to fight this by yourself.”

It takes everything Zira has to not collapse back to the floor; he isn’t even sure if Crowley knows the full impact of his words and what they mean to him. Actually, he’s positive Crowley doesn’t, and when he doesn’t respond right away, Crowley repeats them and Zira has to find his breath all over again. “You’re not alone in this, Zira... You’re always there for me when I need you, have accepted me for who I am from the beginning. How could I not be here for you as well?”

Zira doesn’t know how to answer, but part of him processes the fact that he is shaking and that his face is once again wet with tears that have started to flow freely down his face. He knows it won’t be long before Crowley notices as well and sure enough, the bartender is pulling away just enough and Zira knows he can see that he is crying. After a few quiet moments, Zira feels Crowley starting to pull away from him. _He’s going to leave, this is him saying goodbye and you’ll never hear from him again because you fuc-_

“Can I stay, Zira?” Crowley asks and Zira feels his brain pause as he tries to process the words. “I’ll leave, if you want me to, but I would like to stay. At least for a bit, if that’s alright.”

Crowley says the words in the gentlest voice Zira has ever heard come from the other. He doesn’t even think about it, not really, not for long anyways. He just nods, which he knows is all Crowley needs. They don’t stand there for much longer after that; Zira ends up pulling away from Crowley completely, except for that hand that Crowley still refuses to let go of. He only looks down at it for a moment before he starts to lead them away from the door, heading for the hallway to his bedroom. Something in him screams that this is too much, that he should just go to the couch, but he ignores it. If this is going to be his last chance to comfort and be comforted, he’s going to do it somewhere they can both relax.

When they reach his room, Zira wrestles his hand away from Crowley finally and slides onto his bed, curling back into the space he has occupied for so long now. He faces away from Crowley, not really caring what the other ends up doing. He knows that should make him feel terrible, but he just doesn’t have the energy to care anymore. As soon as he steps away from Crowley, as soon as he is no longer connected, his past starts to slip in again and he can’t figure out how to shut it out.

_“Aziraphale, you really are the love of my life....”_

_“If only you dropped a few pounds... You could be perfect then...”_

The bed dips behind Zira and he feels Crowley crawl in, sliding under the blankets as best as he can with the way Zira has them bunched up. Zira almost moves a bit to give Crowley better access, but something in him stops him... _It’s not like he’s going to stay long... You’ll drive him away eventually..._

“Is this ok, Zira?” Crowley asks in a whisper, but Zira doesn’t answer. Crowley must take something in him as a positive though because the red head doesn’t pull away and instead moves closer. Zira finds he doesn’t quite know what to do, can’t think of how he should be reacting, so he doesn’t do anything.

_“Don’t you think it’s time to do something with your hair? You’re too young for this...”_

_Can’t believe you ever thought you were someone important in another person’s life..._

Crowley moves again and Zira feels an arm start to slide around his middle. He flinches when it wraps around the softer parts of his body, but when he doesn’t pull away, Crowley continues to move. _This is it... He’s finally going to change his mind..._

“I’m right here Zira,” Crowley sighs against his back and Zira shudders. “You don’t have to be alone, don’t have to suffer by yourself.”

As Crowley’s words drop off, Zira’s thoughts continue to swirl until even they start to fade away, repeating themselves over and over often enough that Zira finds he can ignore them, to an extent. He doesn’t relax though, not really, and he wonders if Crowley can tell. The red head must be able to Zira figures, when the arm holding him tightens as Crowley shifts one final time.

Zira’s back is now flush against Crowley’s chest, close enough he can feel Crowley breathing, can feel his heart pounding, can feel how slim and angular the other is. He shivers before burying his face in the pillow that is under his head as the tears start up once more. They don’t last for very long though, nor do they grow intense, but they fall nonetheless. Crowley murmurs nonsense words as Zira does his best to keep himself under control and Zira takes them in as best as he can.

Once his tears have stopped finally, Zira takes a deep breath as he pulls his face from the pillow. He notices that Crowley is still holding him tightly and has somehow gotten even closer to him, and part of Zira’s mind realizes that he hasn’t been this close to someone in a very long time...

As this realization dawns on him, Zira decides he needs to say something, needs to give Crowley some sort of information after dealing with him as much as he has... _He’s just going to want to know more... You’re going to give him just enough to make him keep asking and then what are you going to do...._ Zira takes another deep breath, releasing it as slowly as he can before he finds his voice: “His name was Luke,” he finally whispers.

To Crowley’s credit, the other doesn’t react as if Zira has finally shared part of his past. Nothing in his body language changes and Zira finds he is instantly grateful for this even as he starts to panic about not keeping his mouth shut. It’s not enough to make the next set of words stop, even if it’s the last he explains about any of this. “We were together for three years and I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him. Thought everything was... I never wanted it to change... Even if I was blind...”

Crowley still only waits patiently, as if he’s checking to see if Zira is done talking. Once the silence stretches to an almost uncomfortable point, Zira moves to rebury his face in his pillow, but stops when Crowley moves closer to him once again. He can feel that face he has found he can’t look at enough bury against the back of his neck, nose nuzzling him softly. “Thank you, Zira,” is all Crowley says before silence falls once again.

This time though, Zira feels like he can breathe. It’s not a painful silence, not one he thinks is going to fall apart around him and Zira allows himself to sink into it. For the first time in three days, he has a truly restful sleep, one that’s full of visits from a red head instead of visions of his past...

⁂

The next morning, Zira is parked at his own table while Crowley moves around his kitchen. At some point, a blanket is draped around his shoulders and Zira plays with the edges of it, eyes fixed firmly on the table top in front of him. His mind wanders, not really landing on any one thought in particular. Before too long, a plate is slid in front of him with a tea mug next to it.

“Hope this is alright,” Crowley asks before he lowers himself into the chair next to Zira, his own mug steaming in front of him. “It’s not much, but...”

Zira almost looks up, almost makes himself look at Crowley, but he keeps his eyes fixed on the plate. Distantly, some part of him registers his stomach is growling and he takes a moment to try and remember the last time he ate anything... When nothing comes to mind, he finally reaches for a piece of toast and takes a nibble. He can almost feel the smile that is flashed in his direction.

“Have you just been here for the past few days?” Crowley asks.

Zira sighs softly; he knew there was going to be questions, he just hopes they don’t become too much... “Yes,” he whispers and he can feel Crowley waiting. Before continuing, he takes a sip of his tea and keeps his hand wrapped around the mug, soaking in the warmth. “When I saw the date the other morning... My first thought was about him and something in me just...”

A hand reaches for him and Zira doesn’t pull away when it lands on top of his. “I’m sorry, Zira,” Crowley starts.

Zira pull away after that. “Stop saying that,” he says, but without any force or malice; he doesn’t have the energy for that. “You didn’t do anything wrong and I’m not looking or asking for your pity.”

“Let me explain, Zira,” Crowley whispers and Zira finally picks his eyes up, finding golden ones still filled with so much. “I’m sorry I didn’t know, that I wasn’t here for you sooner. I’m sorry because I should have been here to help.”

“You... What difference would it have made? I still would have been thinking about him, still would have been plagued by what happened.” Zira knows he is saying stuff he doesn’t really mean. Knows he would have given everything for Crowley to have been here with him, but he can’t stop the words from leaving his mouth once they start. _This is it... Might as well get it over with..._

“I didn’t even know day from night this weekend,” Zira continues. His voice betrays how he really feels with a desperate edge to his words even if he doesn’t raise it. “It’s not like I choose to think about him. I do everything I can to not think about him. He ruined my life, I don’t need him ruining the small bit of it I’ve managed to piece back together, but here we are.”

Crowley is staring at him with wide eyes and Zira wants so badly to stop talking, wants to make his words stop before he says something he shouldn’t..._ Just do it... say it... show him just how broken you are..._

“I don’t even miss him! How could I miss him after everything he d-did to me!” He’s yelling now and he can’t even say he knows why... “He... he b-broke me and turned me into this f-fucking m-mess of a p-person, so why c-can’t I stop thinking about him!”

Crowley is still staring at him and Zira can tell he’s shocked now at Zira’s out burst. The red head continues to not say anything and just waits for Zira who deflates almost as quickly as he worked himself up. He sinks into the chair, pulling the blanket tighter around him as his eyes start to prick. He hears Crowley finally shift and he feels a hand touch his shoulder gently. When he doesn’t pull away, he’s quickly pulled closer and encircled by thin arms. The tears don’t come, but he still feels drained, still feels like he’s cried anyways.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, but Zira knows it must be a lot longer than he realizes when Crowley shifts his weight with a hiss. Zira starts to pull away and Crowley lets him, glancing down at him with worry filled eyes. “I’ll be ok,” Zira whispers and he can tell Crowley isn’t so sure. “Really. You’re hurting though and I doubt you remembered your painkillers.”

A sheepish look crosses Crowley’s face and he turns his eyes away. “But...” he starts and Zira gives him another look.

“We sat on the floor a lot last night, you slept in a bed you’re not used to, and you’ve been up doing a lot all morning,” Zira lists off. “Plus, you worked last night too, didn’t you. I appreciate all you’ve done, but you have to take care of yourself, too.”

Crowley finally nods with a sigh. He picks his head up again and golden eyes quickly find blue ones. “Please call me if you need anything. I mean it...”

Zira nods, knowing its what Crowley needs from him, but he doesn’t know if he will._ I don’t need him to learn anything else about my past..._ “I’ll clean all of this up. Give me a reason to stay up.” He says this last bit with a chuckle, needing Crowley to see he’s going to be ok, at least for now. He’s not better, but he’s been pulled out of the worst of it, which is always the hardest part for him.

“I’m still worried about you...” Crowley finally admits. Zira sees a hand twitch out of the corner of his eye and he wonders for a moment what the other is thinking. He almost reaches for Crowley himself, but he can’t bring himself to move either. “I know you aren’t... great right now, but I wish there was some way I could help...”

At the defeated look that takes over Crowley’s face, Zira finally reaches for Crowley’s hand and brings it closer. “You’ve helped me a lot, Crowley,” he tells him softly. “It’s not something that can be fixed instantly. I appreciate all the help you were able to give me this time.”

Crowley’s fingers twitch in his and he can tell the other wants to say more, but Zira isn’t sure what more can even be said at this point. He brings Crowley’s hand up to his cheek though, nuzzles it gently, then lets go before he has a chance to get too caught up in Crowley again. Sighing, he pushes away from the table, letting the blanket fall. He can tell Crowley’s eyes are on him as he picks up the half-eaten breakfast and takes it to his kitchen. When he turns, Crowley is still standing there in the same spot, but his glasses are in his hands, pulled from somewhere.

“If you change your mind...” Crowley whispers.

Zira gives him a sad smirk, but he knows that this is for the best right now. He can’t always rely on Crowley, can’t always rely on someone to be there for him... _He’s going to leave you behind anyways... You can’t get used to this..._ “I’ll be alright, my dear,” Zira replies after a moment.

As he watches, Crowley slips on his glasses finally, hiding those eyes from the world before he runs a hand through his hair. Zira can tell he doesn’t really want to leave, but it’s not going to get better today, not the way Crowley wants it to. Zira knows that this is just going to have to learn to be ok as well. They don’t say much more as they move towards the door, Zira trailing Crowley by a step or two.

Crowley pauses, burning to look at Zira, mouth already half open. Zira stops him before he can go too far though, interrupting softly with a hand on the others arm. “I’ll call or text if it gets bad again. I won’t leave you in the dark anymore.”

As he says the words, Zira realizes with a jolt just how true they are; he doesn’t know if he will ever be able to tell Crowley everything but he doesn’t want to hurt Crowley like this ever again. Behind those glasses, he can tell Crowley is searching his face, can tell the other is wondering if Zira means it. In answer, Zira moves his hand up to cup Crowley’s cheek. He then uses this hand to guide the other closer and presses his forehead against Crowley’s.

There’s nothing more that needs to be said between the two of them and they both don’t dare break the silence that settles over them. Zira feels something in him calm as he breathes Crowley in, feels the thoughts banish themselves for the time being... All too soon though, he’s pulling away and watching as Crowley gathers himself before finally leaving. Zira closes the door with a soft click, silently wondering if he’s really doing the right thing...

Shaking himself, he moves back to the kitchen to actually do the dishes, not wanting to waste this new found burst of energy he has. When they are done, he finds his phone in his room, flicking past texts and voicemails he can’t absorb right now. His work email is flooded though and Zira finally realizes it’s a Monday. With a sigh, he settles back at the table and starts to scroll through the emails, putting his life back together one minute at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter has been a long time coming, and for that, I'm sorry. 
> 
> I could give you all a list of reasons, but they would just sound like excuses. 
> 
> This story, and many other things in life, have just been hard for me to focus on with everything else that has been going on. I think about it constantly, I still know where I want it to go, hell, I even have the ending written already. I just don't have it in me to write it right at this moment. Or anything else that I have been wanting to write. It's eating me alive, not writing, and I feel terrible about it, but I also can't put out something I won't care about. Something that won't go with the story I want to tell. 
> 
> I think part of it is because of how much this story does hurt to tell. With my own holiday issues and then bringing up memories from my past, it was a lot at once for me emotionally and I don't think I really knew just how much it was going to hurt to write. 
> 
> I haven't given up on this though, and if you're still here, I hope you will still be here when I do come back to this. I don't know when that will be exactly, but I always have my journal I write in with me everywhere I go just in case it does start to come back to me. 
> 
> I hope you all are well, I hope this new year is treating you all good so far, and I hope to see you all again soon.


	10. Chapter 10

Two days later, Zira is finally back at work. As soon as he woke on Tuesday, he knew there was no way he was going to make it a full day, so he spent most of it finishing work stuff and finally going through everything Crowley had sent him. To say it was hard to listen to was... an understatement. Zira knew it had to be done though, and on Wednesday he finally felt more like himself.

Sitting in front of his work computer though, Zira wonders if he has made the right decision. With a soft sigh, he gets to work typing up all of the information he was able to gather for the reports Gabriel wants done by Friday still. He’s worried he won’t make the deadline, but knows he can use this as an excuse to get out of anything he needs to.

_“Please, just let me know you’re alive, Zira...”_

A soft knock on his door warns Zira that someone is about to come in (since no one ever actually waits for him to answer) and he looks up just as Gabriel swaggers in. “There you are!” the taller man exclaims. “We were starting to get worried! Can’t have the flu derailing this project.”

“Of course not, Gabriel,” Zira chuckles painfully. “My apologies, didn’t think I was going to be laid up for that long.”

“As long as the work gets done, Zira, you can take off for ‘the flu’ whenever you need to,” Gabriel replies and this time, Zira hears the strange inflection being put on those two words.

Looking more closely at Gabriel, Zira can see the look he’s being given and a pit opens in his stomach as he realizes what the other is implying. “Gabriel, I-”

“Listen, Zira!” Gabriel interrupts. “I told you, the office is just happy you’re moving on finally. So if you need to take a few days off, it’s fine as long as the work gets done.”

“Gabriel, please, I don’t-”

“Anyways, glad you’re finally better after ‘the flu’ and I expect to still see those reports by Friday!” Gabriel says as he backs out of Zira’s office with a wink.

When the door closes, Zira cradles his head in his hands with a groan. He tugs on his hair for a moment before he pulls them away again and goes back to working with a sigh.

_“Zira, please... It’s been two days and no one can get a hold of you...”_

His work goes by quickly, thanks to all of the emails he was able to answer over the last couple of days. He doesn’t get caught up as much as he wants to, but he gets through a lot more than he thought he was going to; gathering most of the information he needed beforehand was definitely a good idea. Luckily, Gabriel leaves him alone for the rest of the day and he doesn’t end up staying late. As he heads home, his thoughts can’t help but return back to all of the messages he had received from Crowley. He’s tried to not think about him too much, but that of course hasn’t worked out as much as he wanted it to...

_“I ssswear to someone Zira, if I don’t hear from you soon, I’m breaking your door down next!”_

Zira knows he fucked up by leaving Crowley in the dark the way he did. Explaining his blackouts is something he knows he is going to have to do, and soon, but even thinking about it has Zira worn out. It’s going to be a long conversation no matter what they do and he just can’t quite figure out where to even begin with it. The more he thinks about it though, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to hide everything from Crowley anymore. The whole story still seems like a lot, but he knows he needs to at least start somewhere, especially after the few pieces he did mention. “There’s bound to be questions after dropping those bombs...” Zira mumbles to himself as he walks.

The weather has only continued to grow colder and Zira walks as quickly as he dares, wanting to get out of it as soon as possible. He can’t help but wonder how the red head is handling this dip in temperature and then another part of him wonders when Crowley started taking up so much space in his daily thoughts. Which leads him to wondering when he stopped caring that he’s thinking so much about Crowley... It terrifies him.

_“That’sss it, Zira. I’m fucking done trying to call you! You better fucking be alive when I get there, alright?? Jussss- Just f-fucking be alive!”_

When he gets home, Zira shucks off his coat and scarf, leaving them by the front door with his work bags. He runs a hand through his hair as his mind continues to circle, wondering what to do about this whole situation. After everything that’s already happened this week though, he just can’t wrap his head around any of it, can’t sort out exactly what it is makes him feel, so he decides he needs to let it rest. At least for now.

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he walks through his home and he reaches for it after he gets a kettle going, needing some tea to help warm him up after his walk. He would be lying if he said he isn’t hoping it’s a text from Crowley, even after everything that happened. Zira hasn’t had the courage to text the other yet, not really knowing what to say... Crowley has yet to text him either and part of Zira is starting to wonder if things really have fallen apart between them...

The sound of the kettle whistling pulls Zira away from his thoughts before they can get much worse. He quickly fills a mug and wraps a hand around it, soaking in as much of the heat as he can while he waits for the tea to steep. He slowly pads through his place, settling in his armchair before he finally reaches for his phone. He’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved when it’s not Crowley’s name that shows up on screen.

Michael Celeste (5:00PM)  
So I’m aware that this probably isn’t  
something you want to hear over text,  
or at all, but I wanted you to know as  
a precaution.

Michael Celeste (5:02PM)  
He’s back in town. Don’t ask how I  
know. Gabriel has connections. Just  
trust me. And stay safe.

Zira reads the messages over and over, waiting for the moment the words sink in. It never really comes. Instead, he ends up staring down at the phone until his screen goes dark. Taking in a deep breath, Zira does everything he can to push down the panic he can feel rising in him. He sends back a quick “thank you” to Michael, knowing they don’t know the weekend he’s just started to move past and that their heart is in the right place.

Taking a sip of his tea finally, Zira ignores the shaking that has started in his hands. His mind moves to the opposite of a shut down and races ahead instead, trying to piece together what this all means. Trying to figure out what he can do...

_He’s going to come looking for you..._

There are days that Zira misses his old apartment, the one with the fireplace and large windows. The nooks that were perfect for curling up in and the bookcases he had in every room. His new place is one he’s never really been able to settle in, but it isn’t full of memories at least, doesn’t haunt him with whispers at every turn. Plus, he knows that no one will be able to find him here unless he wants them to. Gabriel made sure of that years ago. Part of him still fears it though; fears getting a knock on his door and having to see that face on the other side...

_There are other places he can find you..._

While Zira works for a major corporation, it’s one that does everything it can to remain a ghost. Sure, it’s not the most ethical thing in the world for Zira to be doing, but it’s kept him safe, kept him employed all of these years. He’s learned it’s safer to stay quiet sometimes... Zira’s phone buzzes again as he goes to drain the last of his tea; he pauses, reaching for it to read another message from Michael.

Michael Celeste (5:45PM)  
We’ll keep you as safe as we can, Zira.

Sighing, Zira closes his phone and sets it aside once more. He knows that everyone at his office means it. They were all there last time, and while he’s never looked at them as the most delightful people in the world, he knows they have his back. Knows they will always help him...

Giving himself a shake, Zira pulls himself from his chair and heads back to his kitchen, throwing something together for dinner. He isn’t exactly hungry, but at this point, he knows there’s nothing he can really do. There’s no magically fixing this, no miracle he can preform to make the man stay out of his life for good. The best he can do is hope that nothing comes of this, that he can just continue on with his life the way he has been for the past three years.

Even though it’s early, he decides that he doesn’t want to keep worrying about this. He finishes eating his food fairly quickly and once everything has been cleaned up again, Zira heads to bed with a book he’s been meaning to read. His mind continues to race in the background even as he reads through the book, not soaking much of it in. With a sigh, Zira closes the book and settles under the covers, hoping his mind will let him rest even just a small bit...

⁂

Thursday moves by quickly for Zira. Nothing important happens, his work gets done, and he’s able to keep his panic levels as low as possible. It takes a lot of energy, but he knows it’s worth it in the end. Crowley even sends him a text partway through his day, asking if he’s planning on swinging by the bar the next day, and Zira answers “yes” before he’s even finished reading the text. Part of him worries, because that’s what he does now, but he tells himself that locking the doors to his place and never leaving ever again isn’t really solving the issue.

Michael stops by to check on him at one point, poking their head in but not staying long. Zira only gives them a small smile, doing his best to keep how he really feels off of his face, but he knows Michael won’t say anything unless Zira does first. They return his smile and Zira relaxes slightly; if Michael was coming with bad news, they wouldn’t be smiling at him.

They end up sticking around for a fair amount of time, finally slipping into Zira’s office with their own stack of the reports that needs to be finished. Zira doesn’t mind though since a lot of their work overlaps and it means not having to send so many emails back and forth. Gabriel even pokes his head in at one point, but, in an uncharacteristic moment for the man, he doesn’t say much other than a quick hello. Zira pretends not to notice the shared look that passes between him and Michael and only gives them both a smile when they look back at him.

Even though he ends up finishing his work on time, he doesn’t leave the office until later than normal. Michael starts to ask if he wants a ride or even someone to walk with him to the bus stop, but he waves them off as politely as possible; if he really needs help, he knows people will come to his aide in no time. Michael still hesitates and Zira can’t help but wonder if there’s something else that’s going unsaid... “I’ll be fine, Michael,” Zira whispers across the space separating them. “Like you said, he can’t get to me here.”

Michael stares at him for another moment before finally packing their stuff and leaving without saying anything more. Zira leans back in his chair, finally letting his guard down. The panic is still there, still bubbling below the surface, but he pushes it down once more. He knows there’s nothing he can do right now, nothing that’s going to make this situation better. With a sigh, Zira finally packs up his stuff so he can catch one of the last buses home.

He has to hurry to catch it, but Zira settles in a seat quickly once he gets on the bus. The ride is as long and quiet as always and Zira can’t stop his mind from wandering as the time passes. This time, when the past rushes at him, Zira’s prepared for it and isn’t completely blown away by it like he was over the weekend. He’s never really prepared for when memories of that person pops up, never really sure what’s gong to trigger a memory of him. Sometimes, when he’s able to see it coming, it doesn’t hit him nearly as hard. It’s still not nice by any means, but it’s at least a little easier for him to control.

There are times Zira wishes it was all bad memories; he wonders if it would be easier in the long run. He could at least move past it then, in his mind. Having the random good times make themselves known as well though? That’s what makes it harder for him, makes him feel as if he’s crazy for hurting. Zira sighs, watching the world go by as memories of the good times start to fly past. The movie dates that left him smiling for hours, the dinners he had so much fun at... The nights they spent laying in bed, just enjoying each others presence...

The bus jolts, pulling Zira from his thoughts before they can go too far. He blinks, looking around him as he quickly gathers his stuff and joins the line to shuffle off of the bus. When he makes it back to his home, Zira wants so badly to sink into the couch and block out the world, but he knows it won’t solve anything. With a soft sigh, he puts all of his stuff away and heads to his small kitchen to find something he can make for dinner instead.

As he works, his mind wanders and he’s taken back to a night from long ago when he was working next to someone else in a different kitchen. He wasn’t the same person then, has gone through so much since then, but he still can’t keep the small smile that grows on his face away at the memory. It was a fun night, compared to other nights they had together.

_“Are you ever going to learn how to cook for yourself, Aziraphale?”_

_“Why would I when you’re here to do it for me! You make it so much better than I ever would anyways.”_

_“Guess you have a point about that, but still...”_

Zira finishes up the simple pasta dish, throwing it all on a plate that he takes over to his table. He finds a book he’s been trying to read for days now and settles down with it. The good memories continue and Zira finds he’s reading the same line over and over...

_“Saw this today at the shop and I know you’ve been looking for it for a while now...”_

_“Oh... Luke...”_

_“It’s not much, but I know how you are about your book series...”_

Zira closes the book in his hands and focuses on finishing his meal instead. A buzz from his phone draws his attention away from the memories and when he sees Crowley’s name on the screen, he smiles a bit. The message doesn’t say much, only checking in to see how he is doing, but Zira appreciates it all the same. Before he has time to type out a reply, it’s buzzing again, this time with a phone call.

“Gabriel?” Zira asks when he answers.

“Not really how someone answers the phone, sunshine,” the other man responds. “Anyways, he’s been sighted walking around SoHo.”

Zira shivers. “Well, if he lives here, that’s not really...”

“He’s been stopping at all of your old haunts, asking about you, Zira,” Gabriel cuts in and Zira has to take a deep breath when he hears the serious edge to the other man’s words. “I’m doing my best to keep an eye on him, but it might be a good idea to stay clear of a few places for now. Stick to only the ones he doesn’t know about if you leave at all.”

“Yeah...” Zira whispers as he feels himself start to shut down. Gabriel’s words start to fade away into the background and Zira is only barely aware when the conversation ends. He lowers the phone and sees another text from Crowley, but he puts the device down without answering.

Stumbling, Zira makes his way to his couch where he finds himself curled up in a ball when his heart stops racing moments later. He’s shivering when he comes to and he can tell hours have passed. He’s coming for you... always said he... A steady noise reaches Zira’s ears and with a groan, Zira pulls himself to his feet, back to where his phone is.

“Hello..?” Zira whispers after answering without really looking.

“You ok?” Crowley’s voice responds and Zira wants so badly to enjoy the sound of it. “Zira..?”

“I um...” Zira starts before he takes a deep breath. _No need to worry him... you’ll seem him tomorrow... don’t worry him..._ “Just a long day, my dear. Sorry if I worried you.”

Crowley stays quiet for a moment too long and Zira starts to worry, but when the other answers, Zira relaxes again. “Alright. Just wanted to check in. Hope I’ll still see you tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Zira answers. “Still the plan.”

He does his best to put as much cheer as he can in his voice. He knows that will pick up on it right away if he sounds fake, but every ounce of cheer he uses if genuine. It might not be much, but he will always have some joy when it comes to Crowley.

“If you need anything before then...” Crowley starts, voice instantly trailing off.

Zira feels a smile tug at his face, even as his chest clenches when he hears the worry in the other’s voice. “I know...” is all he manages to say in a whisper. A few heartbeats later and he line goes dead. Zira’s eyes close as a sigh overtakes him. His phone slips from his hand once again and lands somewhere next to him, but Zira leaves it behind as he finally makes his way to his bedroom.

Once he crawls into bed, it doesn’t take long for sleep to overtake him; his worries don’t fall away, but his brain somehow manages to shut itself off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone that's still here with me!
> 
> First off, I'm so very sorry for the long wait between chapters. The holidays kicked my behind, the New Year even more so, and now life is just upside down in more ways than one. If you are still here reading, thank you for your patience and understanding. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone that has reached out to me; you don't know just how much that meant to me and I read every message and held it close to me. 
> 
> I don't know when the next chapter will be posted, but I still have plans for this story. I really hope it doesn't take as long as this gap did, but I don't see anything being back on a schedule for the near future either. I will do my best though. 
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe right now. I hope you and your families are doing well. I hope you are sane, healthy, and taking care of yourselves. I hope to see you again soon


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *IMPORTANT - PLEASE READ*
> 
> Alright fam, I have officially updated the rating and the tags for this fic.
> 
> Zira's past is catching up to him and we start to find out about it here. 
> 
> Mild spoiler - 
> 
> Tags reference past events and some stuff that happens at the end of this chapter, but nothing explicit happens this chapter.

Tomorrow comes early. Earlier than Zira really wants it to, but he still manages to pull himself out of bed. He is quick to tell himself that staying in bed will do absolutely nothing for him and he repeats it to himself over and over as he goes about his morning routine. At the very least, the mantra manages to push down the anxiety that is threatening to rear its head.

Breakfast passes by in a blur, his food not leaving much of an impression on him, but it does the job he needs to and he is soon pulling on work clothes and reaching for his bag to head out the door. Part of him knows it is still too early to go to work, but Zira presses onward anyways thinking he can at least get a small bit of work done before anyone else shows up to bother him.

His phone burns a hole in his pocket as he sits on the bus. Zira hasn’t been able to bring himself to look at it yet this morning. Work emails can be accessed once he gets to his desk and if there was any sort of emergency, someone would have just called him by now. Texts can wait. _Crowley can wait._

Another name floats by his mind and for a split second, he almost lets himself linger on it. The bus jerks to a stop beneath him though, pulling him away from his own thoughts instantly as people start to move around him, settling into seats. He looks outside and notices he still has a few stops to go before he reaches his office building. Zira forces his thoughts to turn to something else, pushes that name aside and everything that rises up with it, and does his best to keep it all away as the bus starts moving again.

The rest of the ride passes on quickly, the conversations around him helping Zira focus on anything else. He gets off at his stop without any incident and walks into a mostly empty building. There is no one standing in the lobby, no one lingering near the elevators. His ride up is quiet and when he reaches his floor, he is grateful that the quiet continues. Settling in behind his desk after setting everything down, Zira takes a deep breath as he waits for his computer to load. Once it’s up, he pulls up his emails and figures out what needs to get done first.

Loud voices from down the hall tell pull him out of his thoughts and he glances down at the time realizing how much has already passed with a start. He raises his arms and stretches out his back, giving himself a chance to breath and relax his eyes after staring at the reports he needs to finish before the day is over. A small knock echoes around the room and Zira lowers his arms just as the door opens.

Michael’s head pops around the edge of the door and the pair lock eyes without saying anything. Zira nods and Michael gives him a small smile before opening the door wider. They soon settle in the same spot they were in only the day before at Zira’s desk and the pair get to work without anything else passing between them. Zira can’t help but feel a small bit of warmth in his chest. His coworkers don’t have to keep an eye on him, don’t need to be at his side at all during this, but here they are. Ready to help him yet again without asking for anything in return. Part of him is ready to say something snarky, ready to chime in with negative thoughts, but Zira pushes through it and keeps himself on track.

The day passes by him and Zira manages to keep himself under control. He knows that he can’t continue to void this all for forever, but being able to get though a day at a time right now seems like the only goal he can come up with. One he wants so badly to accomplish, especially since he only has a few more hours in the day to go, with only one place he really wants to be at now.

_Crowley..._

The name circles his mind as he starts to pack up his work bag once again. Michael takes the reports with them when they leave and Zira knows they will make their way to Gabriel’s desk before Zira even has the chance to leave the building. Part of him almost wonders if he should stop and talk to Gabriel, just to see if there is anything going on, but he knows that Gabriel will get a hold of him if there’s an emergency.

When Zira reaches his apartment, he quickly throws on new clothes. Picking up his phone from where he set it down, he starts to slide it into his pocket before remembering he never once opened it while at work. No one ever called him and all the information he needed while he was at the office is always more easier gathered over email. Especially for someone that isn’t the best with phones.

Zira stares at the dark screen in his hand, unwilling to open it even though he knows he should check it. His brain can’t remember it buzzing ever to let him know he had a text, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s always missing messages from not hearing or feeling vibrations. He almost slides it into his pocket again, but stops himself once more and presses the home button, lighting up the screen.

A couple of notifications appear instantly and Zira flicks his eyes over them. Crowley’s name stands out instantly with small number two next to it. Zira opens those messages and reads them over quickly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he reads the small messages. Having someone checking in on him again, someone that Zira is quickly holding closer and closer to his heart, brings him more happiness than he knows what to do with. While staring at the screen, Zira contemplates responding with his own small message, but he decides against it since Crowley is probably already too busy to be checking his phone.

Zira notices that there’s another notification still on his phone, but the time catches his attention and he quickly realizes that he needs to leave soon if he is going to get to the bar on time. He slips the phone into his pocket and grabs his keys as he leaves the bedroom, notification forgotten about as he grabs his jacket. After he locks the door to his place, Zira takes a deep breath, Michael and Gabriel’s words from the past few days suddenly ringing in his ears. _He’s going to find you..._ Zira closes his eyes before peeling them open once more.

_It won’t be long now..._

“I can’t hide for forever...” Zira whispers to himself as he finally walks away from the door. The fear still sits with him and part of him can’t help but think that it always will, but thoughts of a certain red head pulls him forward. _He won’t want to be dragged into this... won’t want to deal with your problems... They have their own problems to deal with_

Wind whips around the buildings as Zira walks, cold and harsh. The sting reminds Zira just how close to the holidays it is; he hasn’t really thought about them much, hasn’t had a reason to for years. There has been no family to spend it with for quite some time now, no one to pass presents on to, and only awkward office parties to attend. This year though... this year could be different. _Could it really though?_ He realizes as he is walking that he wants it to be different. _It won’t be. How could it be._

Zira pushes on through the cold, through the crowds on the sidewalks. He starts to wonder, now that he has realized what time of year it is, just how many of these people are out shopping for their families, for those special people in their lives. His blue eyes start to scan the windows he walks past, not really looking at the items peering back at him. _What would you even buy him? Something meaningless that would only be forgotten about days later?_

By the time Zira reaches the bar, his hands feel as if they are made of ice and he can tell that his cheeks are burning red from the wind. He stops himself before entering the bar though, taking a moment to collect himself. _Safe here..._ he tells himself. _I’m safe here. There’s no way he can find me here..._

_How can you be so sure?_

He takes a deep breath before finally looking up at the door. The familiar sight sends a sense of peace washing over him. Nothing here ever changes. Not in the entire time he has been coming by, so why would anything change now? _I’m safe here,_ Zira reminds himself one last time before he takes a step forward and pushes open the door.

Warm air blasts him in the face instantly and Zira feels part of him melt at the feeling. He has to close his eyes for a moment to take it in, but quickly opens them and moves inside, closing the door behind him so no more cold air blows in. _Nothing changes..._ Zira looks around and sees that the bar is the same as always. Same low lighting, same cozy atmosphere, _Same chair always empty for you?_

Pulling his coat off, Zira moves towards the bar top, heading for the same seat he always sits in. His eyes are scanning behind the bar as he walks, watching the beautiful sight that plays out in front of him: Crowley is leaning across the top, talking with a customer. Zira can tell by their expression that they are not quite interested in whatever conversation is happening, even without being able to see their golden eyes. As Zira gets closer to his seat, he finally turns his eyes to the front and stops short when he notices that there is someone sitting in his spot.

_Never really was your spot..._

Doing his best to not think anything of it, Zira takes the next available seat to the left of the stranger. He sets his coat down on the chair next to him, ready to move it if he needs to, and settles in to watch his friend as they work their way back down towards his end of the bar top. Zira spends his time waiting just watching Crowley some more, unable to tear his eyes away from his friend. _All they will ever be to you..._ They are once again wearing the skirt and tights combination from all of those weeks ago, except this time, their shirt is different. Zira isn’t really up to date on fashion enough to know what all is going on with Crowley’s shirt, but he can’t help but admire the way it clings to the other, how it shows off just enough pale skin while maintaining a delicate look to it.

Red hair falls in a thick plait down their back and Zira’s eyes follow the pattern when Crowley turns to reach for something behind them. The white haired one follows the lines all the way to the top of Crowley’s head, where the pattern starts. He has just enough time to look over the whole thing before Crowley turns back around, their sunglasses pushed to the top of their head, and golden eyes find his almost instantly. A smile tugs at Crowley’s lips as Zira watches them finish up with the customer they were taking care of before they start heading Zira’s way.

Before they can reach Zira though, the person sitting next to Zira flicks a hand out, something Zira barely catches out the corner of his eye. “Possible to get a refill, now that you’re done flirting?” the person says.

_Safe..._

As the words from the stranger next to Zira flow over him, everything in him freezes. Before he can really even comprehend what he has heard, his mind takes him back to a short conversation he had with Michael earlier in the day. They didn’t talk much while they were working together, but at some point, Michael looked up from the file they were working on, pausing with their fingers hovering over laptop keys. Zira didn’t lift his head, but he can feel the nervous energy coming from across the desk. He finally speaks, if only to make things go back to the way they were thirty seconds ago: “You’re allowed to talk, Michael.”

“We won’t let him find you,” Michael states point blank, not bothering to mince words any longer.

Zira only sighs before taking his hands off of his own keyboard and leaning back in his chair. “You can’t stop him for forever,” Zira whispers when the silence continues to stretch. “I know you and Gabriel are doing your best, but you can’t be everywhere at once.”

Michael returns Zira’s stare. “Gabriel still has contacts.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Zira takes a moment to put his thoughts in order. “I know how he works,” he starts. “If he really wants to find me, he’ll start at the old apartment for no reason other than to see that I have indeed moved out. I know Gabriel probably already has someone stationed there, correct?”

Michael nods. “We can catch him there, scare him off-”

“No,” Zira interrupts. “I won’t stoop to his level or play his games. Never again.”

Something in Zira’s tone must radiate across the space between them. Michael stays silent, only tilting their head slightly as they look at Zira. With a deep breath, Zira continues. “Next, he will make his way around to all of the places we used to visit. He’ll start with the restaurants, but the bookstores will be where he will get the most information. They used to love him there...”

_More than the will ever love you. He has them all in the palm of his hand, just like he did you all those years..._

“I’m sure they will be so happy to talk to him,” Zira whispers, no longer able to hold Michael’s gaze. “If he asks the right people, words his questions in just the right way... They will tell him I’ve been around. That I still visit on certain days...” _That I have been stopping by with someone else, that I’ve started to move on._

_What have you dragged Crowley into_

“If he really wants to find me, it won’t be hard, Michael. It never will be.”

Zira hates just how right he is. Hates that he knew exactly what was going to happen. As the world starts to come back into focus around him, his brain decides to zero in on two voices while everything else continues to blur around him.

“Zira?” one of those voices calls out to him and he lifts his eyes, forcing himself to look at the source of the voice. Red hair and golden eyes draws him even more out of his mind, reaching out to him ever so gently.

“Zira, that’s new,” the other voice says and Zira feels as if he’s doused with ice water.

“I um...” he starts, his own voice deafening to his own ears. Zira flashes Crowley a shaky smile - _Can’t have him thinking anything is wrong, can’t let him know, can’t draw attention_ \- before he slides off of the bar stool. “I need to step outside for just a moment, my dear.”

As soon as the term of endearment leaves his mouth, Zira knows. _What have you..._

Zira stumbles as he walks out of the bar, doing everything he can to not look towards Crowley again. He can’t give anything more away, even though he’s already ruined everything. The door to the bar looms in front of him and Zira only hopes he can just get outside before those footsteps behind him can catch up to him.

Cold air blasts him in the face moments before a hand wraps around his bicep and Zira can only close his eyes as his feet land on the sidewalk. Refusing to turn around, Zira continues walking, pulling the other person along with him as he goes. Pulling him, _of course it’s him. There’s no escape now..._

The alley next to the bar is empty when Zira reaches it and he ducks down into the darkness, his heart racing. Fingers curl tighter against his arm. “I finally caught up to you,” the voice says, sending more shivers down Zira’s spine. “It’s so good to see you again, Aziraphale.”

He’s trembling. He can feel it. “I don’t go by that name any longer,” Zira says as forcefully as he can.

“Yes, I did notice the strange name you were called back there,” the other man states simply. “Of course, your name was always a bit weird and it’s not like you really picked a new name. More of a nickname.”

Silence falls between them again and Zira knows the other is waiting, feeling Zira out. He has nothing to say though.

“Why won’t you look at me.”

There’s a tenseness to the voice behind him now and Zira feels himself tremble harder. The past starts to echo around him and Zira wants so badly to run. _He’ll just catch you. He always will._

“Look at me, Aziraphale,” the voice demands, yanking on Zira’s arm.

Zira feels himself being dragged and he doesn’t fight it. _There’s no point..._ As he turns, his gaze rises automatically, wanting to get this over with a soon as possible. “There’s those baby blues,” Luke murmurs when Zira finally looks up at him. “I’ve missed looking into those.”

No words come to Zira’s mind as he does everything he can to avoid looking directly at the man in front of him. The other is taller than him by several inches, so Zira finds himself looking up and to the left of the blonde. It takes everything he has to not run, to not try and get away. _That won’t solve anything now._

“How have things been?” Luke asks and Zira does his best to not react to the question. “Never took you for one to hang out in a bar every week just for the heck of it.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore,” Zira whispers before he can stop himself. Dark eyes narrow in front of him and Zira feels himself shrink at the sight. _Making him mad is just going to make this worse..._

“I guess you’re right,” the other replies, his voice full of ice. Silence drags between the two of them for a few moments before the hardness leaves Luke’s features. “There must be something dragging you here to this dingy place though! Some other customer that stops by and manages to put up with you for a few hours.”

This time, Zira bites his tongue. J_ust get this over with, put up with for a long as you have to. Don’t fuck this up..._ Every muscle in Zira’s body screams at him to run even as his brain starts to shut down. _Put up with this, hope that you don’t drag Crowley into this..._

“I’m assuming it sure isn’t that bartender that keeps you coming by,” Luke continues, talking as if this is a real conversation between two friends. “I mean, did you see the way he was dressed tonight? What kind of man walks around like that!”

When Luke chuckles at his own words, Zira feels something in him light up and he flicks his eyes to Luke’s for the first time. _Don’t... don’t... just stay_\- “Leave Crowley out of this,” Zira whispers.

He can tell the exact moment his words reach Luke. The grip on his arm tightens, ever so slightly, and Zira flinches. He drops his gaze quickly, shutting down as much as possible to make himself seem small. “So it is the bartender,” Luke finally says and Zira can hear the venom behind the words. “Moved on with that piece of trash, have you? Forgotten what it was like to be with a real man? Need a reminder?”

As Luke speaks, he steps towards Zira, backing the two of them up against an alley wall. Zira can feel himself shaking, even as his head bumps against the bricks in the wall. _Should have stayed quiet... should have just kept your mouth shut... should have -_

“Course, I can help you with that,” Luke starts, voice pitched low. Zira keeps his eyes on the ground between them, wanting so badly to just disappear. As he stares, he can feel Luke moving. “Could be just like the old days,” Luke continues, his breath brushing against Zira’s skin.

Zira shivers and closes his eyes before he can react in any other way.

“You remember how things were, don’t you?” Luke whispers in a sickly sweet voice and Zira can tell just by his words how close he is to Zira’s skin.

Zira can’t stop the full body flinch that happens and only freezes as soon as it passes, his breath catching in his throat. _Oh gods... What have you done..._

The grip on Zira’s arm tightens further and pain shoots down the limb, keeping him completely in place. “What’s wrong, Aziraphale.” The tone behind the words is different and Zira is taken back years when it washes over him. Luke doesn’t continue right away, but he presses closer to Zira as the silence stretches. “Don’t you miss this? Do I need to remind you how much you used to love this?” Luke eventually continues.

When Luke’s hips press against Zira’s, completely holding him in place, the smaller man releases a soft whimper he can no longer hold back. He can feel his heart racing in his chest and it takes absolutely everything he has to hold himself together. Don’t shut down, not now... Don’t do it...

He feels the soft exhale of breath against his skin, which is all the warning he gets before lips press against his neck. A wave of nausea washes over Zira at the sensation and he has to fight to hold in another whimper. “See,” Luke whispers. “Things can be gentle between us again.” Another kiss, higher up than the first. “We can go right back to the way things were.” One against his jaw bone. “No reason to act like anything ever changed between us.”

When lips land right next to Zira’s mouth - _please..._ \- Zira flinches again. Before he can even think about what he’s done enough to be afraid of what will happen next, he’s sent reeling. If not for the grip on his arm, Zira knows he would be on the ground as he stumbles, holding his cheek with his free hand. He doesn’t have enough time to even process what’s happened before a hand grabs hold of his jaw, pulling his face back around.

Dark eyes lock onto his and Zira feels everything in him shut down when he sees the burning anger behind them. “Look what you’ve made me do, Aziraphale,” Luke tells him. “Always making me do things I don’t want to do. Have you forgotten everything since I’ve been gone? Forgotten how to behave?”

Luke’s words wash over Zira as he’s held in place. They are only whispered into his ear, but Zira can tell just how much they hold. _You’ve fucked this up... fucked everything up, just like you always do..._ When Luke’s lips press against him once more, Zira holds everything back. _Shut down, just shut it all down..._ The past rushes up to the front of his mind even as he tries to stop himself from processing what’s happening in his present.

_There’s no point in fighting it..._

_No point in trying to get away..._

“I just have to remind you,” Luke tells him as he lets go of Zira’s jaw. Fingers trace over Zira’s skin softly as Luke’s words take on a softer edge once again. “Just have to make you remember what it’s like to be with a man. Remind you that you will always belong to me, Aziraphale. I know you still care about me...”

_Please go away..._

_Just go away..._

_Fade away..._

The world fades around Zira, darkening at the edges until all he can focus on are the thoughts circling in his own head. _Safer in here... where he can’t get to me..._

“Get your fucking hands off of my angel, you cretin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets dark before it gets lighter. But the lighter will come. 
> 
> Thank you as always for all of the love and support. I really do appreciate each and every single one of you.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning:
> 
> Lots of non-consensual touching and a very disassociated angel

“Get your fucking hands off of my angel, you cretin.”

Zira’s head jerks up, pulling away from the hand that is still caressing him. His eyes shoot to the end of the alley way, where he can see a figure standing in the dark. _No... Not now..._ Before he even has time to think too much about the sight in front of him, that hand is reaching for him again. Fingers dance over his skin, but don’t pull his face away.

“Not really sure who or what you’re talking about,” Luke calls, his voice carrying easily between the walls of the buildings. “I don’t see any angels here, but if you’re interested in watching, do it quietly.”

Zira feels his eyes widen as his heart starts to race. He can’t make out the features of the person now approaching them slowly, but the barely there limp mixed with that tall frame gives him all of the information he needs. “Crowley...” he whispers, unable to stop the name falling from his lips.

“Pretty sure my name is Luke, sweetheart.”

A shiver races through Zira as lips connect with his neck, trailing a path down. _Please go... just let this end quickly..._ He can’t tear his eyes away from Crowley’s as they finally come into view and he finds himself hoping his thoughts are translating across the space between them.

“Thought I asked you to let go of him,” Crowley calls once they’re closer. Not close enough to reach out, not quite yet.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” Luke responds. His words wash over Zira’s skin and the smaller man tenses. _When did..._ Lips connect with Zira’s collarbone, tracing a slow path that Zira does everything he can to ignore. The first two buttons on his shirt have been slipped open, the material pushed aside just enough for him to feel the chill in the air on his skin.

Zira’s world starts to narrow. A dark edge tints everything around him and he finds himself wondering if he’s going to pass out completely or just blackout again. _Crowley..._ Something in him must try to jerk away, must attempt to move towards the red head that is getting even closer. Hips press against his, pinning him to the wall even more. He feels himself shutting down even more when those hips start moving against him, start grinding as the hand on his face moves to wrap around the back of his neck.

“I know how much you’ve missed this,” Luke whispers and Zira feels everything in him finally collapse.

He’s never wanted this, never wanted any of it. Not even the entire time they were actually together, but he could never make Luke understand that.

Nights full of arguments, full of not understanding what was wrong with him. “What do you want from me, Aziraphale?” Luke shouts at him. “I’ve given you everything! Why can’t you just give me this one thing?”

Zira, backed against a wall, eyes closed as tights as possible. Zira, breathing as quietly as possible. Zira, doing everything to make himself seem as small as he can.

“Please, Aziraphale,” Luke begs a different night. “I can make you feel so good. I’ll treat you so well, I promise.”

They’re on the bed this time, Luke looming over Zira as he speaks. Eyes locked together, desperation mixed with a tinge of anger dripping from Luke’s words. Zira, trapped between arms that are holding the other man up above him. No where to run, no where to get away, no way to talk about how this affects him.

“Please don’t cry, Aziraphale...”

Arms wrapped around him.

“I’ll take care of you, I always will.”

A hand tangled in his hair.

“It’s no fun when you get like this, you know?”

Words hurled at him in the darkness.

_Just make it stop... please..._

“...zira...”

Laying in bed alone, curled in on himself.

“...come back to me, Zira...”

Sounds start to filter in again. Traffic rushing by from the end of the alley. Voices of people walking past. Gentle words whispered to him in the darkness.

Zira blinks and is pulled from his past, back to the reality in front of him. Blue eyes meet with warm brown ones and Zira feels him breath catch. “Anathema...?” He manages to ask before blinking again.

“There you are,” she whispers with a small smile forcing its way onto her face.

_Where’s Crowley... what have you done to him..._

“I...” he starts, but the words fail instantly and Zira finds he can’t start them again.

“It’s ok, Zira,” Anathema tells him. Zira catches a hand moving out of the corner of his eye and flinches instinctively. “I’m sorry, I should have said something. Can I touch your arm, Zira?”

Deep brown eyes never leave his and after a few moments, Zira nods. He stop himself from bracing when she moves again, nor can he help the second flinch when her hand lands on his arm. “Where..?” he starts again, needing to get his thoughts out, needing to ask so many questions.

“Let’s get you up first and back inside, alright?”

Zira can only stare at Anathema. Once her words register with him, he realizes that he’s sitting on the ground, the alley wall still at his back. He starts to turn his head to look around, but Anathema’s eyes follow him. “Please don’t,” she starts, but she doesn’t do anything to stop him when he pulls away from her gaze once again.

A groan to his left draws his attention and Zira’s breath catches at the sight of Luke on the ground, curled in a ball. His arms are wrapped around his middle, knees drawn up to his chest. Zira’s heart races as he stares at the man in front of him, the one he wants so badly to get away from. As he continues to look around though, he quickly notices the lack of red hair anywhere.

His eyes fly back to Anathema’s again as his heart races even harder. “Crow-?”

“Inside,” she cuts him off before the name even leaves his lips. “He’s-”

“They,” Zira whispers between breaths.

She nods and ducks her head momentarily. “They,” she starts again, pulling her eyes back up. “They’re already inside, Zira, waiting on you.” She waits for Zira’s breathing to calm down, waits for her words to sink in. “Please, let’s go and I’ll explain, I promise.”

It takes Zira a long time, longer than Anathema probably wants him to take, but when he hears another groan come from the man to his left, he finally finds it in him to nod. Anathema nods back before moving, slowly and in ways that Zira can see and pull away from if he wants. She carefully helps him get to his feet in a way that lets Zira know this isn’t the first time she has done this.

_Crowley..._

It’s slow going and full of gentle encouragement from the bartender, but they manage to make their way back to the bar. When Zira sees the familiar sight of the wooden door, something in him breaks and a sob breaks from his chest. Anathema only tightens her grip around his shoulders before she pushes the door open, ushering them both inside before closing it behind them.

Zira can’t help but look around, can’t stop himself from searching for warm golden eyes. The bar that was full of patrons only... _How long has it been...?_ is now mostly empty. A few people mill around the bar near the gap and they all look up when the door closes. Several of them move towards Anathema, but she waves them off. “I got him, don’t worry. The alley might need some cleaning up though.”

Her words are met with a few grimaces and Zira just barely registers one of the men moving towards the door. The others look at each other before exchanging more words with the woman helping keep Zira on his feet. He stops paying attention though and goes back to looking for those eyes, needing to make sure they are still full of life.

_Where..._

_Please... tell me I haven’t..._

“Zira?” Anathema whispers, bringing Zira back to himself a bit. “Don’t worry,” she continues once he looks her way. “They went to go get the car; they should be around back by now. I think they went to go grab a few things from upstairs first. We thought you might be more comfortable at home..?”

Her words trail off and she waits for any sign from Zira. “Home...” he hears himself whisper. “Not alone...”

“You won’t be, if you don’t want to,” Anathema says gently as she starts to lead them to the end of the bar once more. “Come on, let’s go see if Crowley is back.”

Zira follows her unsteadily, still not quite back to himself. He blinks and manages to grasp a glimpse of the stairs he helped Crowley up what feels like years ago now. He blinks again and vaguely hears Anathema speaking to him once again. He tries, he really does, to process what she is saying, but it just doesn’t happen. Her words wash over him and he finds himself wondering if she’s talking for him, or if she’s talking for herself at this point. _Not that I mind if she is... I wouldn’t blame her..._

When cold air hits his face once again, Zira has to fight the urge to run back inside that rises up in him. _Inside is safe... inside is where he isn’t... please... I have..._ “...stay inside... have to stay... safer...”

“Zira, hey...”

The white haired man flicks his eyes up finally, pushing through the panic rising in his chest. They instantly land on the golden ones in front of him, currently not hidden by glasses that Zira can’t even bring himself to look for. Part of him notices the smudged makeup that was only applied so perfectly. Notices the bruise that’s already forming along one cheekbone. Notices all of the emotions that are hiding behind those eyes.

The rest of him though pushes all of that to the side and focuses only on the words that fall in front of him. Hands move into view and Zira’s eyes flick down to them. “Zira, can I touch you..? Just to help you get to the car and no where you don’t want me, alright?”

Crowley’s words are cautious. As if they are waiting for Zira to react in the worst way possible. Blue eyes move slowly between slim fingers and golden eyes. When he latches onto them again, he nods ever so slightly. Crowley’s shoulders relax just the smallest of bits, as if he expected Zira to say no. _As if he’s scared to touch you, to ever lay a hand on you again, now that he knows what a fuck up you-_

“Take good care of him tonight,” Anathema whispers as she lets her hands slide away from Zira. Before she’s completely let go, Crowley’s hands replace hers and Zira leans into the touch instantly. “You know I will,” they say in answer, a soft smile tugging at their lips. It’s one that doesn’t come even close to reaching their eyes though, but Zira pretends not to notice as Crowley moves to stand next to him where Anathema had once been.

“Call me if you need anything,” she says as she moves back.

Crowley only nods before turning their attention back to Zira. “Let’s go home, angel,” they whisper.

As soon as the words reach Zira, something in him starts paying attention to just how drained he is. His hands start to shake almost immediately and he leans even further against Crowley as they walk the few steps to the car. He can tell Crowley is worried by the amount of words that start pouring from the taller person, but the volume of them never changes. The soft, caring tone never fails to fill each word and Zira finds himself hanging on to each and every single one of them even if he can’t make sense of them.

“In you go,” Crowley exhales as they settle Zira into the passengers seat. When they go to pull their hands away though, Zira moves with them, unwilling to not be connected, even for a moment. “You have to let me get in, else we won’t be able to leave,” Crowley explains gently.

It makes sense, it really does. Zira knows that the only way Crowley can get in the vehicle now is by going around to the other side. He just can’t seem to find it in himself to be ok with parting from the red head. The thought alone has even more of him shaking and he can feel his breathing pick up pace again. “I...” he whispers, needing to say something, needing to let Crowley know he does in fact understand, but it all fails him.

Anathema’s face appears next to Crowley in a flash. Her hands slide over Crowley’s, taking their place as Crowley slips away as fast as possible. Zira is never once alone, never left without contact or friendly eyes to look into. When the driver’s side car door closes, rocking the whole car gently, a hand lands on Zira’s other arm, dragging his attention in that direction.

“Crowley...”

“I know, Zira,” is all the red head says before the door next to Zira closes, Anathema having once again slipped away. “I’m not going anywhere, not unless it’s with you at my side. I can promise you that.”

Zira finds himself nodding after a few moments and Crowley must take it as the sign they need. One hand stays connected to Zira as the car finally pulls away, leaving the bar and the alley behind. It always stays within sight, always relaxed enough for Zira to pull away from if he decides to. He won’t though, but he keeps his eyes trained on it just the same as golden eyes disappear behind the wrong pair of sunglasses.

⁂

_How am I supposed to explain..._

_You can’t. There’s no way to ever make it make sen-_

“Alright, Zira, let’s get you inside.”

The car shakes slightly as a door closes.

_I need him to know..._

_He can’t. He’ll never accept you. They never do-_

The door next to Zira opens, cold air washing over him.

“I’m going to help you out now, ok?”

_I just want things to go back to how they were..._

_It can’t. Not now that he knows-_

Another door closes and Zira feels himself being moved, ever so slowly. As if he’ll break.

“We just have to head upstairs and then we’ll be safe.”

Crowley’s words wash over Zira and he feels a bubble building in his chest. When it bursts, a loud bark of laughter escapes him along with tears that spring to his eyes and fall rapidly. Crowley holds on to him tighter as the laughter continues, but it doesn’t take long before it turns to sobs.

An arm wraps around him, doing everything it can to hold him upright as he is forced to take steps towards his apartment building. The steps they both take are strange and to anyone around them, they probably look like they’ve enjoyed their Friday evening a little too much. Even through his tears though, Zira can tell it’s taking everything Crowley has to get them anywhere near the building, let alone inside, and he tries his best to stop the tears.

_Have to stop... something wrong with Crowley... need to stop... need..._

Zira takes another deep breath and looks in front of him, quickly realizing they are standing in front of the stairs leading to his door. “C-Crowley,” he manages to get out through the tears still streaming from him.

“One step at a time,” Crowley whispers as their arm squeezes Zira closer against their side.

“B-but...” Zira starts, a thought passing his mind - _limping earlier... they were..._ “L- limping... you w-were...”

“I’ll be ok,” Crowley says when Zira manages to get enough words out. “Although, I’ll admit it would be nice if there was an elevator here.”

Crowley mumbles this last bit with a small chuckle as they both start climbing the stairs. As they go, Zira realizes that his sobs start to die off slowly. He tries to keep his breathing steady as they climb, tries anything he can to make it easier for Crowley to climb. Tries not to think about what’s going to happen once they do reach his apartment.

_He’s going to leave. Won’t want to stick around and see what becomes of you. Just brought you home to be ni-_

“We’re almossst there, Zira,” Crowley starts, voice strained. “Just hang on a little longer. Ssstay with me, alright?”

“You’re j-just rambling...” Zira whispers and part of him wonder if that was supposed to stay inside. “These s-stairs are k-killing you...”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Crowley huffs as they both climb another step. They’re almost at the top now and Zira wonders if Crowley is speaking more for his benefit or their own. “But thessse won’t kill me. At least not tonight.”

In the time it takes Zira to think of something to say, they both climb the final step and are only a few feet away from Zira’s door. As they walk, some part of Zira remembers to reach for the keys in his pocket and while it takes him several tries to pull them out, he finally does just as they stand in front of the worn wood.

Zira fumbles with the keys, but only for a moment before a hand reaches over, ever so slowly and within his sight line. “I can help,” Crowley whispers, waiting for Zira’s answer.

In answer, Zira only hands over the keys, doing his best to ignore just how badly his hands are shaking. The door opens with a soft click and Zira feels something in him finally let go when they cross the threshold. _Safe... safe in here..._ The door closes behind them and Zira slowly notices that he’s been let go of as Crowley moves in front of him, always staying within Zira’s sight as best as they can.

“Zira..?” Crowley calls and Zira starts, wondering just how long Crowley had been trying to get his attention. He looks down and sees a hand reaching out for him.

He takes a deep breath before he takes the hand offered to him. As he looks up, he sees Crowley smile gently at him and he tries so hard to smile back. “Crowley...” Zira mumbles.

“I know, Zira,” is all the red head says before they start leading Zira through his own place.

_They don’t want you to talk, don’t want you to say anything. As long as you don’t talk about it, they can pretend that there’s nothing wro-_

“Easy does it, Zira,” Crowley calls, once again bringing Zira back from his own thoughts. “We’re almost to your room, if that’s ok with you.”

Zira finds himself nodding. He honestly doesn’t care where they end up as long as he isn’t alone. “Please... don’t...” he tries to say, his words falling off before he can really say anything.

Crowley enters Zira’s room first, gently leading the smaller man behind them. “I won’t go anywhere, Zira,” Crowley whispers as they turn to look at Zira. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

Zira can only stare at Crowley as he processes those words. “Stay... please...” he finally manages to say and he watches as Crowley’s smile widens ever so slightly.

“Come sit down, angel,” Crowley whispers, leading Zira to the edge of the bed.

Something in Zira tells him that it should be Crowley that sits down, should be the one that can’t hide the limp in their leg anymore that gets to relax. Before he can voice those thoughts though, Crowley sits down next to the spot he indicates is for Zira. A groan escapes the other as Zira finally lowers himself to the soft bedding and it takes everything in him to not curl up on himself as soon as he settles.

A strange silence falls over them, one that Zira can’t find any comfort in. Not like he used to be able to. Instead, he only feels that it’s being held together by a string, as if it can break at any moment and become something he won’t know how to handle. Every second that ticks by, he can feel that string fraying further and his heart starts to race along with it.

He knows his panic is visible the moment that Crowley leans their shoulder against his. It’s the slightest of touches, one announced by a shifting of weight on the bed below him and yet he flinches away from it all the same. What should be a soothing action, one meant to ground him or give him something to lean against, only serves to increase his panic as the heavy silence stretches on. _I can’t... I..._

_He’ll find you_

_He will always find you_

_Not safe... not safe... not..._

“Deep breaths, Zira,” a voice whispers.

Zira tries. Air flows through his lungs, slower than it did only moments ago.

“That’s it, just like that,” it continues.

Another one, deeper, calmer, more controlled.

“You’re doing great, Zira,” Crowley encourages.

Tears, falling slowly down his cheeks as Zira manages to take several more breaths, all slow and calculated. “Crowley...” he croaks out.

When the shoulder moves towards him this time, Zira turns into it, needing contact. Needing to be held up. Needing so badly to let go and be helped. He wraps an arm around Crowley’s middle as they finally connect and feels an arm wrapping around him after a pause.

Zira isn’t sure how long they stay like that, in each others presence. Frankly, if you ask him, it isn’t long enough. He knows it never will be at this point, not after what happened earlier. Soon though, Zira can tell that Crowley is in pain, no matter how much they try to hide it, and he pulls away as slowly as he can.

Taking a deep breath, Zira does his best to compose his thoughts so his words come out the exact way he wants them to. “Please go take a pain pill,” he whispers. “I don’t want you to be in pain because of me.”

Crowley gives him a sad smile. “Don’t worry,” they reply just as softly. “I have them right here. I’m not leaving your side tonight. Not unless I absolutely have to.”

As the words sink in, whatever was still held together within Zira finally finishes breaking and he crumbles again. Crowley takes it all in stride though. It might take longer than it should, between Crowley’s painful movements and Zira’s inability to function correctly anymore, but they finally get settled in bed. Zira can hear Crowley’s words echoing in his head every time the red head goes to do anything.

Shoes come off, only after permission is asked.

A shirt, torn and dirty in ways Zira does everything he can to not focus on, ends up in the corner somewhere, but only after Crowley waits for a nod.

Covers are pulled back and hands help lower Zira, but only once they’ve moved as slow as possible within Zira’s line of sight.

A hand wraps around a slim wrist, holding Crowley in place, and golden eyes find his quickly, but only after the tinted lenses land on the side table. “I’ll be right back, angel,” Crowley whispers, pulling out a pill bottle from their pocket as they speak.

Reluctantly, Zira lets go of Crowley and does his best to watch for as long as he can as they walk out of the bedroom. He knows that Crowley will return in only a few moments, but he still curls in on himself under the covers.

The bed dips, letting Zira know Crowley is back, and he pulls his head up far enough to watch. Crowley toes off their shoes finally, slipping out of them with a soft hiss. They aren’t the shoes from earlier in the evening at all, but Zira can’t remember when they changed them. Hair is pulled back into a low bun and tights are pulled off of slim legs, thrown somewhere to land in a messy ball.

Crowley looks towards Zira and he knows instantly what is about to be asked of him. Without either of them saying anything, he nods and watches as Crowley pulls the skirt off next, revealing black briefs that Zira barely even notices. He only reaches a hand out instead, wanting so badly to pull Crowley to him now.

“Are you sure, Zira?” Crowley only asks and Zira wants so badly for this to be different. Wants this to play out under nicer terms, but that can’t happen now for them. They are both once again hurting, full of pain that they can’t vocalize.

Zira nods, holding back the pain as much as he can. He moves to the side, pulling Crowley along with him. Sheets hiss as they slide against bare legs and open arms soon great Zira, asking for nothing, but offering everything. They wrap around his frame, pulling him closer as soon as he starts to move towards them.

He blocks it all out, pushes everything down and away as much as he can as he buries his face against Crowley’s chest. It can all be dealt with later. Questions can be asked later. He knows it isn’t the way to hand this, but for now, he needs just this. Needs just a moment, just an evening to pretend like nothing has changed between them.

When sleep finally does reach Zira, it pulls him under slowly as a hand trails gentle paths over his back and words are murmured softly into his ear. He finds himself only wishing those words never leave him and wonders just how much longer he will be able to hear them before they are gone.

_They know now..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably not what you all wanted to happen, but I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> I start back to work on monday and it will be a couple of weeks before I find a normal schedule again. I'm going to do my best to keep on writing though! The next chapter is going to be pretty heavy on Zira's past, so I'm going to take my time on it and do it right. 
> 
> It won't be a super long wait though! Thank you again, as always. You are all amazing!

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another Hozier title for this fandom lol I’m only slightly sorry!
> 
> This is a new type of story for me since I don’t usually do AUs like this, so I hope everyone enjoys it. I still don’t quite know how I feel about this story and it’s a feeling I don’t think is going to resolve itself by not posting, so I’m posting earlier than I planned. 
> 
> I’m aiming for Wednesday updates, but if that has to change for any reason, I’ll keep people posted via tumblr! Feel free to comment here or shoot me a message there [@milla-gsd](https://milla-gsd.tumblr.com)


End file.
